


Blind Hearts

by yodepalma



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 16:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12774951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/pseuds/yodepalma
Summary: Prince Prompto of Niflheim is cursed to become a daemon every night as the sun sets. With nobody able to break the curse, the prince of Lucis sends his most trusted advisor to escort him to Mt. Ravatogh, where the Oracle is held captive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> oh my GOD i can't believe it's finally finished and being posted and excuse me please while i go die k?? x_x 
> 
> anyway a thousand, thousand thanks to:  
> -[milokmp](https://milokmp.tumblr.com) for the CRAZY AMAZING cover art because holy crap this is? too good?? am slain (for a bigger version of the art, [go here](https://milokmp.tumblr.com/post/167687974031/cover-for-blind-hearts-by-yodepalma-part-of)! it's worth it!)  
> -my darling [onpanwa](http://onpanwa.tumblr.com) for being a very entertaining cheerleader, it has been an _experience_. (ftr, everyone, their art is pretty great too so you should check it out. hope you like prompto.)  
>  -and, as always, rhymeswithpi and greyskiesblack for editing my shit and yelling at me when i'm so sick of it i'm convinced it's terrible
> 
> if there is one thing i have learned from this experience it's that i'm never doing a big bang again (i'm really bad at deadlines and also stress)
> 
> FTR POV switches between Prompto and Ignis every chapter, just so ya'll don't get confused. <3

by [milokmp](https://milokmp.tumblr.com/post/167687974031/cover-for-blind-hearts-by-yodepalma-part-of)

* * *

 

Prompto stifles a yawn as he leans against the armrest of his throne. He _hates_ being awake during the daytime. He doesn't even see why he needs to be here. Couldn't he just meet with the man later, when he's a little more awake? Two hours of sleep isn't enough. He's not sure two _days_ of sleep would be.

"Sit up." Ravus reaches over and shoves Prompto upright.

Prompto makes a face at him before he can remember not to. Ravus' glare makes him blush, and he ducks his head to pick at the edge of his sleeves. Not that there are any loose strings; he hasn't been permitted to wear old clothes in months. Not when everyone knows--everyone _judges_ \--

Prompto folds his hands together and squeezes until his knuckles turn white. It grounds him a little, makes the escalating darkness fade away to a shadow in the back of his mind. He doesn't _think_ anything will happen while the sun's out, but he doesn't want to take any chances.

He doesn't want to kill anyone. Not again.

"Perk up, shortcake." Aranea gives him a sharp nudge. By the time Prompto looks up, she's standing at attention again, still as a statue and more beautiful. Prompto smiles at her anyway, because she'll _know_ if he doesn't. Even though her eyes are trained suspiciously on the open doorway.

His smile fades as he looks over too. The man from Insomnia _still_ hasn't arrived, though it's almost time for lunch. Maybe he's heard the rumors and went right back home. Decided the danger wasn't worth it, loyalty to his own prince be damned. Prompto couldn't blame him if he had. _He'd_ run from himself too, if he were capable of it.

If they do get an apology from Prince Noctis, Prompto will be sure to request leniency. He doesn't want anybody to get in trouble on _his_ account.

He squeezes his hands together again, digging his nails into his skin to distract himself. He can't keep thinking like this. He's not a monster, not really. If it weren't for that _stupid advisor_ , he wouldn't be anything at all.

"My lords!" An attendant skids into the room and bows low. "There's--cleric from Insomnia--"

Prompto sits up and frowns. Noctis had said he was sending a _friend_.

"Please, calm your breathing." Gentiana steps forward from Ravus' side and makes a flowing gesture with her hand. The attendant's breathing eases as a flutter of snow falls on his neck. "What news have you?"

"Insomnia has sent us a cleric!" The attendant straightens from his bow. A soft, rhythmic clunk echoes in from the hallway behind him, and he flinches as if whatever's out there is _terrifying_. It's _probably_ just the cleric, but Prompto takes a shuddering breath to calm himself. He can't help fearing that a real daemon might appear, though he knows it's impossible with the sunlight streaming through the high windows. "He refuses to relinquish his weapon, and the soldiers are reluctant to detain him…"

"A cleric is never unarmed." Prompto can hear the gentle smile in Gentiana's voice. "Be at peace, sir. You have not failed in your duty."

The attendant bows again, but Prompto's attention is drawn away from his words of thanks. A tall man has stepped into the doorway, wearing the ostentatious blue and gold robes of a cleric of Bahamut. The lance he holds looks anything but ceremonial, directly at odds with his embellished clothes.

Prompto stifles an undignified noise of surprise. The clerics of Bahamut _never_ leave Insomnia, their loyalty to the Caelum bloodline trumping all other worldly concerns. To have one come all the way out here--

Prompto swallows against the tears that spring to his eyes. He knows Noctis cares for him, but he can't believe he's important enough that a cleric would be willing to leave Noctis' side.

One of the guards at the door steps into the room and gestures toward the cleric with a shaking hand. "Your Majesty, Your Highness. It's my honor to introduce Lord Ignis Scientia, cleric of Bahamut and chamberlain of His Royal Highness, Prince Noctis of Insomnia."

Prompto bites his lip as Ignis steps forward and bows. His heartbeat throbs painfully in his ears. He should have Ravus send Ignis away with apologies, tell Noctis that he's not worth this much trouble. But he can't get the words out, and he listens with horror as Ravus welcomes Ignis to the kingdom.

Aranea slides closer to the throne and gives Prompto's shoulder a brief, gentle squeeze. She doesn't say anything. Prompto can hear her voice anyway, telling him to breathe and pull himself together. He's a prince, after all. Anyone looking at him must believe he's in control at all times. _Especially_ when it's not true.

"We should relocate for lunch," Ravus says, getting to his feet. Prompto automatically scrambles up as well, trying to look half as dignified as the rest of the room. "And you can explain to us precisely how you plan to assist Prince Prompto."

Ravus leads them to a small dining room with a balcony that overlooks the outer garden. The sylleblossom centerpiece on the table is starting to wilt, but the dishes from breakfast have been replaced. Ignis' expression remains neutral as he looks over the room, but his eyes linger on the window. Pryna and Umbra whine as they slink around Prompto with their tails pressed up against their bellies. Prompto tries not to let it bother him, but neither of the dogs has stayed in the same room with him for long since he'd been cursed.

"The view is beautiful," Ignis says as a servant pulls out a chair for him.

"Thank you." Ravus takes his seat without looking out the window himself. "It's my sister's garden."

Prompto sits in his usual seat at Ravus' left, frowning at the extra chair across from him. A fourth chair must have been added so Luna's seat could remain empty.

Ignis' eyes turn sharp as he turns his gaze to Ravus. "I'm sorry to bring up a sensitive topic." He shakes out his napkin and places it in his lap. "But you may be pleased to know that my task here is twofold."

"Is that so?" Ravus gestures for the servants to bring in the meal. Prompto doesn't recognize some of the food, but Ignis looks a little brighter when it's placed on the table in front him. "Has Prince Noctis managed to find her, then?"

"He believes so." Ignis offers them a wry smile as Prompto leans eagerly forward.  "If we can retrieve her, she may be able to break the curse. The queen _is_ a cleric of Ifrit, after all."

"What do you mean 'we'?" Prompto blurts before Ignis can continue. He blushes when Ravus turns an exasperated look on him, but he doesn't back down. He hides his clenched fists under the table. "I-is there someone else with you?"

"No." Ignis looks over to Prompto for perhaps the first time, a frown turning his features harsh. "I had intended to bring you with me. If the queen is able to heal the curse herself, I should think you'd like to get it done immediately, rather than wait weeks for her to return."

"But--"

"I promise that no harm will come to either of us." Ignis' voice is surprisingly soft, but the assurance only makes Prompto more nervous. He knows what happens to people who are overconfident. "I should be able to put you to sleep every night, and lift the spell in the morning. It's worked on multiple types of daemons."

"B-but I'm not--I'm _human_." Prompto wrings his hands together under the table. He hopes Ignis doesn’t think of him just as the daemon he turns into, but wouldn’t be surprised if he does. Too many people are unable to separate his curse from who he is. "How can you be _sure_?"

Ignis' eyes soften a little--just enough for Prompto to be able to pull his hands apart. "I'd like to test it tonight before we leave. If it doesn't work, of course I won't expect you to travel."

"And if it fails?" Prompto takes a deep breath. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I assure you I can take care of myself. Prince Noctis wouldn't have sent me if he didn't know I could handle this."

Prompto nods slowly. He trusts Noctis, at least. "Alright. If you're sure."

"I am." Ignis turns back to Ravus. "Assuming Your Majesty has no objections?"

"If Prince Noctis is confident in your abilities, then I see no reason to stop you." Ravus starts picking at his food. "After lunch, Prompto can show you where he spends the night, and you can make whatever preparations you need to. For now, I should like to hear your travel plans."

Prompto ducks his head to his meal and listens with half an ear as Ignis talks. He _wants_ to pay attention, but he can't stop thinking about everything that can go wrong. Even if Ignis' spell works tonight, there's no guarantee it will work _every_ night. And if they're in a city when it doesn't…

He barely manages to hold back a sigh. He supposes he'll just have to have faith.


	2. Chapter 2

Prompto leads him across a bridge behind the manor to a smaller cliff that holds a single round building. The remoteness makes it an ideal location to house a dangerous creature, but the sturdy walls are useless against daemons. Perhaps King Ravus chose the location to give Prompto the comfort of familiarity.

"Um, there's really not much to it," Prompto says, fidgeting with his sleeves. Not very becoming of a prince, but at least he doesn't _slouch_. "It's supposed to be a fallback if we need to flee the manor, but when I was cursed…"

"It's far enough away from people that you shouldn't be able to hurt anyone." Ignis steps up to the only door and tries the handle, but it doesn't move.

"Oh, hold on!" The prince steps in close to Ignis and digs a key out of a pocket. Ignis takes a discreet step to the side as he tries to put the key in the wrong way. "We used to have one of the knights lock me in, but one of them tried—"

The door swings open slowly and Prompto crosses his arms as he stares into the dark building. Ignis squeezes his shoulder gently. "It wasn't your fault."

Prompto gives him a wan smile and holds the key out to him. "If you want to…"

Ignis shakes his head. "I'd rather not give myself the illusion of safety."

"O-okay." Prompto tucks the key away and steps inside. Ignis follows a few steps behind him, looking around. The whole place appears to have been cleared of any valuables, except for a broken wooden chest shoved up against a wall of the cavernous room. Ignis steps around a supporting pillar and notices scorch marks near the base. He kneels down to inspect them, running his fingers over the cracked stone.

"Prince Noctis said you were a tonberry." Ignis raises an eyebrow at Prompto.

"Master tonberry." Prompto's smile almost looks genuine. "You know, with the big glowy knife?"

"I'm familiar." Ignis stands up and half-heartedly dusts off his knee. He hates the ceremonial robes. They get dirty far too easily. "That's a fairly powerful daemon. I wouldn't want to fight one alone."

Prompto ducks his head, staring at the floor and rocking back on his heels. "I-if you think it's too dangerous, you don't have to do this. I can tell Noct—Prince Noctis—not to punish you because I sent you away."

Ignis holds back a sigh. "Your Highness, I am here of my own free will. Not even the prince can send away a cleric if they don't want to leave."

Prompto peeks up at him from behind his bangs. Ignis resists the urge to adjust his posture. Who let a prince develop such abysmal mannerisms? "If you're _sure_."

"I am." Ignis turns away from the prince and nods toward the chest. "What's in there?"

"Oh, just some clothes." Prompto's giggle sounds nervous. "My clothes don't make it through the night usually, and Ravus gets _really_ grumpy if he has to come get me because I'm naked."

"I see." Ignis has an unusually difficult time holding back his own laugh, so he continues inspecting the room to hide his amusement. The pillars will provide some difficulty if he _does_ end up having to fight the daemon, but there's still enough room to swing a lance. And if the worst comes to pass, he always has access to his daggers.

"Do you need anything else?" Prompto asks. "I kind of usually spend most of the day asleep. I don't know what daemons do when there's nobody around to attack, but I'm always _exhausted_."

"My apologies, Your Highness." Ignis bows low to the prince. "I wasn't aware I was keeping you from resting."

"No, it's fine!" Prompto waves his hands in front of himself. Ignis looks up at the movement, and finds himself scowling at the light blush staining Prompto's cheeks. Does he have no self-control? "Just, if you didn't need anything else, I was going to nap before dinner? But I don't want to leave if you need something from me because what if it's _important_ and—"

"Your Highness." Ignis doesn't make a habit of interrupting royalty, but he has a feeling that if he didn't Prompto would just keep _rambling_. The prince slaps a hand over his own mouth and his blush spreads to his ears.

"Sorry," he says, muffled by his hand. Ignis shouldn't find it as endearing as he does.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Your Highness." Ignis straightens up and offers Prompto a small smile. "I'll need somewhere to spend the day, but I can ask the king for a room. I hope you enjoy your rest."

"You too." Prompto's blush had started to fade, but it brightens again. "I mean—you know." He gestures vaguely with a hand and scurries outside before Ignis can blink.

Ignis shakes his head and follows. He waits for Prompto to relock the door before they head back to the manor.

"Why do you always follow so far behind me?" Prompto asks, looking back at Ignis over his shoulder.

"It's only proper for men of our stations." Ignis frowns. "Is the etiquette so different between our countries?"

Prompto hunches his shoulders. "I don't really know. I wasn't always treated like a prince, so…"

It isn't Ignis' place to ask why Prompto would be treated differently than his siblings. "You must have missed a great deal of your education, then."

"I hid and listened to Ravus' and Luna's tutors a lot, but yeah. It wasn't as easy to learn to fight, but Ravus tried his best." Prompto sighs. "The only weapon I'm good with is a bow, though."

"That may be useful for our travels," Ignis says blandly.

Prompto shoots him a surprised look, like he wasn't expecting Ignis to believe he could be useful. Ignis ignores it, pretending to be focused on the scenery, and they spend the rest of the walk in silence.

Back at the manor, Ignis returns to the soldiers on the first floor to fetch his belongings. He tugs open his bag briefly to see if anything was disturbed, but it seems like even the people of Tenebrae are wary of angering Bahamut's clerics. Ignis nods his thanks to them and goes to find Ravus.

"Is there something else I can do for you, Ignis?" Ravus looks up from some paperwork an advisor is showing him, and Ignis bows his apology for interrupting.

"I had hoped for somewhere to relax until nightfall," Ignis says. "The prince has retired to his room and I don't wish to disturb him."

"Aranea can show you a spare room." Ravus gestures to an armored woman nearby. She silently bows and steps down from the dais the thrones are perched on.

Ignis bows again and follows her out of the throne room. The windows on this side of the manor look out on distant cliffs enshrouded by clouds. He preferred the view of the garden, but he can't deny that Tenebrae is a beautiful country.

"So you're planning to take shortcake to the other end of the world, hm?" Aranea turns her head toward him, but the helmet blocks most of her face from view and Ignis can't tell what she's thinking. "You'd better take care of him."

"I would never let any harm come to him."

Aranea stops at the top of a staircase, turning to Ignis and poking a finger into his chest. "I don't mean just physically. He can take care of himself. The kid's too nice for his own damn good, and _you_ need to make sure nobody takes advantage of him."

Ignis remembers Prompto's flustered, apologetic rambling. He thinks he knows what she means. "Of course," he says softly. "I'll treat him as if he's my own prince."

Aranea snorts and starts walking down the stairs. "I'll believe he's in good hands when you bring him back."

Ignis supposes he can't fault her for that. He'd have felt the same about leaving Noctis in someone else's care, if that someone else hadn't been Gladiolus.

The room Aranea shows him is tiny, holding only a couch and a low table. Everything is such a pristine shade of white he's almost afraid to touch it.

"I'll tell someone to bring you water," Aranea says. She nods toward a thick cord hanging next to the couch. "And that'll call someone to you if you need anything else."

"Thank you for your assistance," Ignis says. He sets his bag on the floor by the table as Aranea leaves, then walks over to the open window. The room looks out on an unoccupied cliffside. He watches the birds fly around it as he waits.

Once the water has been delivered and the servant has disappeared again, he returns to his bag to dig out his spare travel clothes. It's a relief to change out of the heavy robes and into his more familiar pants and shirt. He sits gingerly on the couch and the cushion sinks delightfully under his weight, far more comfortable than it appeared. He leans back almost against his will, and it's not long before he feels himself starting to fall asleep.

A servant wakes him before sunset, and he follows her out of the manor. Prompto is already waiting for him at the other building, wringing his hands together and staring at the setting sun.

"Is everything alright, Your Highness?"

Prompto startles at the sound of his voice, clutching a hand to his chest as he spins around. "Don't _do_ that." He takes a deep, shuddering breath and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. You're _sure_ this will work, right?"

Ignis can't be absolutely certain it will, but he doesn't think it's wise to tell Prompto that. "Everything will be fine," he says, because that, at least, isn't a lie. He runs almost as well as he fights, and daemons never chase anyone far from the places they materialized. "We should get inside before the sun sets."

"R-right." Prompto unlocks the door and holds the key out to Ignis. "I usually put it in the chest but I think you should hold onto it. Just in case."

Ignis takes the key and pockets it. If the worst _does_ come to pass, he won't be pausing to lock the door behind him.

Prompto paces the room as they wait, the white robe he's changed into swishing around his ankles. Ignis watches for a few minutes as the shadows grow around them, but the mood is infectious. He wishes he'd brought a book to occupy himself with. It takes an interminably long time for darkness to fall.

"Okay." Prompto's voice is strained. He wraps his arms around himself and stares blankly at a window. "Any minute now."

The actual transformation is preluded by a tingle of magic that pulls the heat out of the air. Ignis shivers, but resists the urge to rub his arms. He'll want his hands free when the daemon appears. Prompto hunches in on himself as shadows slowly bubble around his body. They collapse into a ball a third of Prompto's height. Ignis flexes his fingers. The substance melts into the ground, revealing the daemon. Prompto's robe slithers into a puddle at its feet.

For a second, the tonberry looks _confused_ , its head turning to take in the room. Ignis takes a deep breath. That seems to be all the daemon needs to sense his presence. It leaps toward him and Ignis throws himself behind a pillar, grunting as his shoulder slams into it. He'd forgotten how fast the damned things can be. There's only a second to prepare his spell before the tonberry attacks again. He flips out of the way, then puts another pillar at his back and raises a hand.

" _Sleep_." Bahamut's voice resonates behind his own, echoing through the room, but there's no visual sign of the casting. The tonberry simply stops in its tracks, swaying on its feet before it slumps to the floor. Ignis breaths a sigh of relief and straightens his glasses.

Well, he knows the spell _works_. Now he just has to find something to do all night while he makes sure it doesn't wear off.


	3. Chapter 3

Prompto wakes with a start, curled up on his side with nothing under him but the hard ground. He pushes himself up, but a gentle hand on his shoulder stops him. He’d _forgotten_ he’s not alone.

“Ignis?” He tries to look Ignis over for injuries, but from this position all he can see is Ignis’ face. “You’re not hurt, right? Did everything go okay?”

Ignis gives him one of his tiny half-smiles.  “There were no unforeseen issues,” he says, which isn’t what Prompto asked _at all_. “How are you feeling?”

Prompto sighs at the blatant change in topic, but he doesn’t feel comfortable calling Ignis out on it. He feels good, though, more awake than he’s felt in months and a little chilly because—because, oh son of a coeurl, he’s _naked_. He sits up so fast it makes him dizzy, but at least this way he can cover himself up. Sort of. “Um. I feel fine, I slept great, do you think I can get my clothes maybe?”

Ignis makes a little coughing noise that sounds _suspiciously_ like laughter. “My apologies, Your Highness. I had to make sure you hadn’t suffered any ill effects.”

“Well, I’m fine!” Prompto chances a glance up and is relieved to see that Ignis has turned his back to him. “So, um, I’m gonna go grab my clothes, okay?”

He scrambles to his feet and jogs over to the chest. He’s never gotten dressed so fast in his _life_ , and when he’s done he rubs a hand over his face to calm himself. He'd been so worried about everything that could go wrong that he hadn't even thought about what would happen if everything went _right_. Namely, being naked in front of a cleric of Bahamut. A _really attractive_ cleric.

Prompto takes a deep breath. He can do this. He'd kind of rather _die_ , but he can totally do this. "Okay, I'm good!" He jogs back to Ignis and bounces on his toes. "So nothing went wrong, r-right? You're not just saying that?"

"You slept through the night." Ignis rubs at one of his eyes behind his glasses. He looks _exhausted_. "We shouldn't have any trouble while we're traveling."

"W-What if I get, um, used to it?" Prompto pats his leg when Ignis gives him a sharp look. "You know, like when you drink coffee and you have to keep drinking more to keep feeling awake?"

"I knew what you meant." Ignis rubs his knuckles against the bottom of his chin. "There haven't been any documented instances of anyone building up a tolerance to magic, but I suppose we can't rule it out. I'll keep an eye out for any changes at night, and you'll need to let me know if you feel unusually tired in the mornings."

"...When do you plan to sleep?"

"I'll be fine." Ignis waves him off and leaves the building. Prompto frowns and scrambles after him. He bites his lip as Ignis locks the door, wondering if he should push the topic. It's bad enough that Ignis is doing this all for _him_ ; he shouldn't feel obligated to neglect his own health doing so.

But Ignis walks off before Prompto can make up his mind, striding across the bridge as if he hasn't been awake all night guarding a daemon. He looks different in the dawn light, softer and more approachable. That may be the change out of his robes as much as anything else, and the fitted trousers and soft shirt look _much_ better on him.

Prompto jerks his gaze up in case Ignis catches him looking and assumes he's, like, _looking_ , and his eyes catch on a dark stain on Ignis' shoulder. He hastens forward and grabs Ignis' arm, leaning forward to get a better look. That's _definitely_ new.

"What happened?" Prompto asks. He flinches back when Ignis turns toward him with a hand raised, but Ignis just pinches the fabric of his shirt and pulls it forward so he can see the stain. "You said it went fine!"

"It's nothing," Ignis says in the same dismissive tone he'd used earlier. Prompto's chest tightens. Why does Ignis keep _lying_ to him?

"It's _not_." Prompto lets go of Ignis and wraps his arms around himself. "Did I attack you? Are you _hurt_? We shouldn't do this, I'm fine, we haven't tried everything yet—"

"Your Highness, I'm _fine_." Ignis closes his eyes and rubs his forehead with the side of his hand. "I was slow putting you to sleep, and I scraped against a pillar trying to put enough space between us to make up for my error. It won't happen again."

"But what if it _does_? I don't want to risk—"

"I knew what was at risk when I came." Ignis drops his hand and glares at Prompto. "But I'm here anyway, because it's _my_ life."

"Y-you're right." Prompto takes a shaky breath. "I'm sorry. I can't help worrying, though."

"Understandable. It affects you as well." Ignis sighs and starts walking again.

Prompto walks next to him, kicking at loose pebbles. It's peaceful enough that he feels himself relaxing, and he looks up at Ignis from the corner of his eye. Ignis' face is impassive and cold even in the warm dawn light, but Prompto is starting to suspect that that's just what Ignis' face _does_.

"Um, so I was thinking." He rubs his sweaty hands on his thighs. "Maybe while we're traveling you can just call me Prompto? Instead of the formal Highness stuff."

Ignis frowns. He's probably going to say that using Prompto's first name would be too _familiar_ or something, which is ridiculous. Prompto's not even in line for the throne, not as long as he's cursed.

"That might be for the best," Ignis says. "If I only use your given name, perhaps nobody will connect you with the throne. We wouldn't want to alarm people."

"R-right." Prompto's heart sinks. That isn't why he'd asked, but it's a good point. There's no reason to correct him. Ignis probably doesn't _want_ a more casual relationship with Prompto, even if it would make the trip easier on both of them.

A servant is waiting for them when they get back to the manor, and he takes them straight to the dining room for breakfast. Ignis starts to bow when he notices Ravus waiting for them, but Ravus impatiently waves them to their seats.

"You're later than I expected," he says.

"We had some things to discuss." How Ignis manages to keep his voice so bland is utterly beyond Prompto. "I apologize for delaying your breakfast."

Prompto ducks his head to hide his blush when Ravus looks over at him, just _knowing_ that Ravus is wondering if Prompto freaked out when he woke up naked with someone else in the building with him.

"It's not important." Ravus falls silent as the servants start bringing in food, but once the table is full he continues. "I trust everything went well? You do appear to be in one piece."

"It was an uneventful night," Ignis says, the _liar_.

"Excellent." Ravus makes a pointed gesture with his fork. "So you won't have any trouble leaving after breakfast than?"

Prompto pouts. If he didn't know better, he'd think Ravus was _trying_ to get rid of him.

After breakfast, Prompto rushes back to his room to pack and change into something more suitable for traveling. Except all of his clothes are _white_ now, and way too nice to wear on the road. Oh well. He'll just leave off the embellishments and in a few days he'll be as dirty as anyone else.

He still grimaces at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair so it looks a little less princely. Maybe Ravus won't _fix_ it this time, since there won't be anybody to impress. Most people shouldn't recognize him outside of the manor.

He really doesn't think this is a good idea, but it's not like he was given much of a choice. He sighs and crosses his arms, surveying his bedroom. All he needs to pack are a few changes of clothes, and he's pretty sure Ignis will be annoyed if he brings anything else. But he'll be going all the way to _Lucis_ , and his sketchbook and pencil don't take up that much room. He shoves them in his bag before he can change his mind.

Ignis and Ravus are waiting for him outside, standing silently beside each other as a servant hooks a pair of white chocobo up to one of the less-gaudy carriages. Ravus scowls and adjusts Prompto's tunic.

"You would think nobody taught you how to dress yourself," Ravus says. He tugs on Prompto's collar. "And why you insist on appearing as if you've been preened by a chocobo—"

"It's _style_!" Prompto squawks and pats at his hair. "Not that _you_ ever knew what that was."

"Alright, get in the carriage, chocobutt." Aranea passes by Prompto with a pat on the shoulder that's sharp enough to make him jerk forward. She ignores the steps that lead up to the box seat and jumps straight into it, settling in for the drive. She's wearing more casual leather armor than usual, her helmet nowhere in sight. Prompto wonders where her lance is hiding. "We haven't got all day."

"Oh, my bow!" Prompto turns back to get it, but Ravus stops him with a hand against his chest.

"It's already in there." Ravus sighs and pats his chest. "Aranea will see you to the boat. Be careful in Lucis."

"O-okay." Prompto wipes at his eyes before he can embarrass himself by crying. "I, um. I'll miss you."

Ravus _almost_ smiles, which is more than he's managed since Luna's been gone. "Nonsense. Your aim is impeccable."

_Oh no_. Prompto throws his arms around Ravus and sniffles as he buries his face in his chest. Prompto's fight against his tears is weirdly _helped_ by the awkward way Ravus pats at his back. Ravus has never been any good at comfort.

"Sorry, I'm good." Prompto dries his eyes with a sleeve. "I'll see you when I get back."

Ignis offers a hand to help him into the carriage. Prompto gives him a small smile as he gets settled. He throws his bag on the empty bench and digs out his bow while Ignis says his own goodbyes.

"Are you alright?" Ignis sits primly on the seat across from Prompto with an attentive look.

Prompto leans out the window as the carriage starts moving, taking in the manor one last time. Ravus hasn't moved yet, but Gentiana has come outside to join him. Pryna and Umbra slink out from somewhere behind her dark robes to sit beside her, ears alert. Pryna's tail wags lazily in the air, kind of like a little doggy wave.

Prompto grins and waves back. "Yeah. I'm okay."


	4. Chapter 4

The prince prattles on _incessantly_ as the carriage trundles slowly across the bridges and dirt roads that cross through Tenebrae. Ignis tries to pay attention, he really does, but it's impossible to keep track of the one-sided conversation when he's had so little sleep. At least Prompto doesn't seem to require any sort of response from him. He lets the words wash over him, staring vaguely at the passing scenery and allowing his mind to wander. He doesn't realize he's falling asleep until his forehead hits the window frame. He jerks awake and straightens up, discreetly rubbing his forehead.

"Oh, am I keeping you awake?" Prompto looks at Ignis with big, worried eyes, gnawing on his bottom lip.

"It's fine." Ignis sighs. "I should stay awake in case something happens anyway."

"Aw, I'll be fine!" Prompto pats his bow, but his smile wobbles when Ignis gives it a doubtful look. "And I have Aranea. She can handle anything."

Ignis gives their driver an uncertain look. It's not that he doubts her capabilities as a guard—Ravus wouldn't send along anyone who couldn't keep the prince safe—but he finds it difficult to entrust his charge's safety to someone he doesn't know. Still, Prompto _does_ have a point. Even if Aranea couldn't handle an attack on her own, a fight would wake him up.

And Ignis is only human. He won't be of any use to Prompto if he pushes himself _too_ far. Especially if his magic fails overnight.

"Look, I won't bother you or anything." Prompto grabs his bag and pulls out a notebook, waving it vaguely in Ignis' direction. It shouldn't be a surprise that he brought something completely superfluous along, but Ignis will leave it alone as long as he doesn't complain about the weight.

"Very well." Ignis sighs and settles himself into a more comfortable position. The faint scratch of Prompto's pencil lulls him to sleep.

Aranea wakes him with a sharp knock on the door. Ignis jerks upright and adjusts his glasses, ignoring the sharp pain in his neck and back from the awkward position.

"Break time, sleeping beauty." She gives him a sharp grin. "Need you to keep an eye on Prompto while I grab some food. He wants to _explore_."

"Of course." Ignis gets out of the carriage and stretches, biting back a groan as half his vertebrae crack. He doesn't feel like he's slept at _all_. But Prompto looks restless, patting his leg to some unheard tune and looking around the station with curiosity, and Ignis can't let him run off on his own. Not this close to Tenebrae.

"I've never been this far away from home before," Prompto says as Ignis approaches him. He barely glances at Ignis before he looks out toward the mountains again, but at least his distraction means he misses Ignis' jaw clench in displeasure. Has Prompto been properly educated in _anything_? "It's so hot. And _dry_. I'm, like, dying of thirst."

"I sincerely doubt that," Ignis says before he can stop himself, "or you'd have stopped talking."

"Ugh, you're as bad as Ravus." Prompto pouts, but he also hooks their elbows together, so he can't be that hurt by Ignis' words. "So as punishment for being _mean_ , you're buying me a drink."

Ignis bites back a sigh. "Whatever you wish."

He can tell from Prompto's frown that it's not the answer the prince had been looking for, but Ignis doesn't know what else he expected. Ignis isn't here to be his _friend_. Once the curse has been broken, they may likely never see each other again.

Fortunately, Prompto cheers up once Ignis finds someone selling small cups of an unfamiliar fruit cider. Prompto _insists_ Ignis get some for himself as well, and Ignis can’t stop himself from making a face at the slightly sour taste. Prompto tries to hide a smile behind his hand, but isn’t quite fast enough to cover it. Ignis pretends he didn’t see it.

He catches snippets of conversation as he follows Prompto around, but there isn't much of interest in a dying mine. Even the rumors of a monster underground are vague and disinteresting, certainly not enough for Ignis to investigate when he already has a task to accomplish.

"Do you think the miners will be okay?" Prompto asks. He gestures toward the horizon, where the miners' village is nestled in the valley. "What if whatever's down there comes _out_?"

Ignis hesitates as he looks out over the distant buildings. If there's something strong enough in the mines that it's enough to shut them down, those people won't stand a chance against it. But he can't afford to make this diversion alone, either. "It does us little good to worry about that now," he says. Prompto bites his lower lip and stares at the village again, but he nods in reluctant agreement. At least he has _some_ sense. "We should return to the carriage. Aranea should have obtained lunch by now."

They head back in an awkward silence, and it takes Ignis a minute to realize that the _reason_ it's so awkward is that Prompto's voice isn't filling the air between them. He chances a glance behind himself to find Prompto looking around at the locals with a little crease between his eyebrows, his worry so strong it's nearly tangible. Perhaps Ignis should have thought of something more reassuring to say, but he can't think of anything that isn't _true_.

Aranea flicks Prompto between the eyes when they reach her, a teasing smile on her face. "What's got you looking so upset, kiddo? Do I need to beat a cleric up for you?"

"What? No!" Prompto laughs and rubs the back of his neck. "It's not important. Is the food inside?"

"Pity." Aranea sighs loudly as Prompto scrambles around her and into the carriage. "I was looking forward to punching Bahamut by proxy."

Ignis is _fairly_ certain she doesn't actually mean it. She just wants to cheer Prompto up. It's probably best to play along. "I'm afraid you'll have to find another excuse for that."

"Hmm." Aranea taps her chin and gives Ignis a hard look. "I'll be watching you for one, then."

"Aranea, _don't_." Prompto whines from inside the carriage. Aranea laughs and waves Ignis inside.

They make it to Altissia too close to sunset for Ignis' comfort. Prompto's nervous eyes linger on the horizon as they pull up to the shipyard. He leaps out of the carriage before Aranea has a chance to open the door for him, and he throws his arms around her in a hug tight enough to make her grunt.

"Easy there, shortcake." Aranea pats his shoulder a little awkwardly, but the smile she gives him is soft. "You won't even have time to miss us."

"I don't like going without you." Prompto takes a half step away from her and rubs his face. "You've _always_ been there. I don't like being so alone."

"Hey, Ignis will be there for you." Aranea gives Ignis a look over Prompto's shoulder that's a clear threat ' _or else'_. Ignis acknowledges it with a small nod. He doubts he'll have Aranea's patience for the prince, but he'll certainly do his best. "But somebody has to keep an eye on Ravus with both you and Luna gone."

"I know." Prompto sighs. "I guess we should board before it's, um, too late. Don't let Ravus spend too much time training? And make sure he eats..."

"Get _going_ , Prompto."

"R-right!" Prompto turns wide eyes on Ignis. "Do you have tickets or something? How do we get on?"

"I'll take care of it." Ignis holds out a hand to Aranea. "Thank you for escorting us all the way out here."

"No problem," Aranea takes Ignis' hand and squeezes it as they shake. She has a strong grip, but Ignis doesn't find it as threatening as she's probably hoping. "Just make sure you get this _done_."

"Of course."

Ignis gestures to Prompto and leads him over to the man directing supplies onto the ship. He looks irritated at being interrupted, and that doesn't change even after he recognizes Ignis. He _does_ agree to let Prompto board without any argument, though—something about owing King Regis a favor anyway—so Ignis doesn't let it bother him. Captain Sophiar hadn't been any more pleasant on the way here.

"This is _amazing_." Prompto lags behind, trying to take in everything, and Ignis has to pull him out of someone's way more than once. "I never thought I'd be going to Lucis. Especially not—like this."

"If you don't watch what you're doing, you won't _make_ it there." Ignis puts a hand between Prompto's shoulder blades to make sure Prompto walks _with_ him. "At least try to keep out of the sailors' ways, please. You'll have the time to be awed tomorrow."

"Sorry." Prompto ducks his head and lets Ignis half-push him into the hold of the ship.

The room Ignis had been given on the way here had been promised to him for the return trip as well, but he still knocks on the door before he steps inside. It feels even smaller now with Prompto crowding the space behind him, and the bed _certainly_ isn't up to the standards of royalty, but it will have to do. A tonberry is unlikely to have much of an opinion on where it sleeps anyway.

Ignis takes Prompto's bag from him as they wait for the sun to set. Prompto is even more nervous tonight, pacing tight circles and running both hands through his hair like he's trying to pull it out. Ignis does his best to ignore it, focuses instead on the well of Bahamut's power that resides in the back of his mind. Prepares to say the command the second the daemon materializes from the miasma that covers the prince.

He still isn't quite ready for the transformation, doesn't think he ever will be. But this time while the tonberry is still staring around its new surroundings with candle-bright eyes, Ignis intones the command " _Sleep,_ " and it crumples to the ground before it notices that it's not alone.

Ignis releases a heartfelt sigh and approaches the daemon warily. With one hand on a dagger, he prods the prone form, and then bends down to inspect it. Sleeping soundly. It seems disrespectful to leave Prompto on the floor, whether he'll notice it or not. Ignis carefully picks him up—in this form, he weighs practically nothing—and gently lays him on top of the sheets.

He should stay awake at least a little while, just to be safe. He _knows_ the spell will hold, and he has no reason to doubt that it will remain so even if he's unconscious as well...but what if it doesn't? What if he's wrong this _one time_ , and he endangers the entire ship?

This is ridiculous. Ignis takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. It's impossible to rest properly in a moving carriage, and he hadn't slept at _all_ the night before. He needs to catch up on sleep before they make the trek across Leide, and his brain just won't _turn off_.

Perhaps if he takes a short walk around the ship first. He leaves the room quietly, though no amount of noise would wake the daemon up, and heads back up to the deck. It's quieter now that they've set sail, and he's not the only passenger up there stretching his legs. He makes idle small talk with a few of them, but nobody holds his attention for very long. Even the captain's granddaughter's explanation of the work she had to do on the ship while it was in dock isn't as interesting as he would normally find it.

He's too anxious about being away from Prompto. The daemon may be impossible to wake up as long as Ignis' spell is active, but it bothers him not to have any _proof_. He makes his apologies to Cindy and reluctantly returns to the room.

There's really nothing to do besides attempt to sleep. He finds a safe nook for his glasses, then climbs onto the bed and wriggles under the sheets. He's shoved uncomfortably up against the wall, bumping up against it with every swell of the ocean, and the tonberry is dangerously close to falling off the bed. He could _probably_ tug Prompto a little closer, but if he woke up—well, even at this distance, Ignis might well be dead before he noticed anyway. He pulls Prompto over in something that's not quite an embrace and closes his eyes, tries to convince himself that he's _not_ hugging a daemon to sleep.

It takes some time before his dreams claim him, but Prompto doesn't show any sign of waking up before he falls asleep.

Prompto is less than pleased by their sleeping arrangements in the morning. It's not that they're sleeping in the same bed that upsets him (which isn't to say it doesn't _embarrass_ him), but instead he worries about _Ignis_. About the magic wearing off in the middle of the night, and Ignis being defenseless against the daemon he's literally sleeping with.

"Your Highness, we _both_ need the rest." Ignis rubs his forehead and thinks caffeinated thoughts. "I can't remain awake indefinitely, and we will have to sleep at the same time on the road."

"I _know_ , but—" Prompto hugs a lumpy pillow to his chest and hides his face in it. His voice is so muffled Ignis can barely hear it. "If you die, who will keep me from killing everyone _else_?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....dino is in this story because _dino_ , that's why

Prompto isn't sure what he was expecting Lucis to look like, but Galdin Quay is _quaint_. Maybe with Ignis' robes, he'd have expected something more gaudy or at least, like, a little shinier, but the place looks like any painting of a seaside town he's ever seen. He shields his eyes against the glare of the sun and leans over the railing, trying to get a better view of the island in the distance. He wants to paint it, maybe in the soft light of dawn, to emphasize the illusion of wings rising from the waves.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Prompto jumps at the soft question, scrambling for the strap of his bag as it slips off his shoulder. Someone else has come up to the railing while Prompto was distracted, leaning on it with one elbow. He's as tall as Ignis and almost as handsome, and he's looking down at Prompto with a smirk.

"Not quite as beautiful as _you_ , though." The man winks, and his smirk widens when it makes Prompto blush. "My name's Dino. Can I ask for _yours_ , gorgeous?"

"Um. I-it's Prompto." Prompto holds out a hand automatically, and Dino takes it to press a lingering kiss to the back of it. Prompto doesn't know _what_ to do, looking away and hoping someone—literally _any_ one—comes by and interrupts. "I—I have to, uh—"

"Join me for dinner, maybe?" Dino leans forward a little. Not enough to be _scary_ or anything, but Prompto still has to resist the urge to lean away. He scratches the back of a leg with the toe of his shoe and ducks his head. "The clams here are _amazing_."

Okay, Prompto doesn't really get out much, but even _he_ knows clams are supposed to be aphrodisiacs. He yanks his hand out of Dino's and crosses his arms. _Where_ is Ignis? Aranea probably would have threatened this guy already. "Sorry, I c-can't—"

A gentle hand lands on Prompto's shoulder. "Excuse me." Ignis gives Prompto's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and then puts himself a protective step ahead of him. "Prompto and I have business to attend to."

Dino backs off with a good-natured smile, his hands raised in the air as if to show off how harmless he is. "Oh, I should've _known_ he was taken. No hard feelings, yeah?"

Ignis inclines his head slightly. Prompto waits for him to say something to deny Dino's assumption, but Ignis simply gestures for Prompto to step ahead of him into the resort. "But—"

"We should get a room before dinner," Ignis says, giving him a pointed look.

"Oh, right." Prompto gives Dino a nervous smile. "It was nice to meet you?"

"The pleasure was _all_ mine." Dino gives them a little wave, and Prompto waves back automatically. Even though he's blushing _again_. Nobody has ever acted like that toward him before. He's not sure if he likes it.

At least Dino stopped when Ignis showed up, even if it was because he thinks Prompto and Ignis are a couple. Which is _weird_. He doesn't think there's anything about the two of them that seems couple-y, and anyway Ignis wouldn't _do that_. Not with Prompto, Prince of Tenebrae.

Not that—not that Prompto wants him to, or anything. It's just, the prince thing. It's stupid. Prompto is kind of airheaded, yeah, but he's not _oblivious_. He knows he's a terrible prince. He _knows_ he's only allowed to sit on a throne because Luna and Ravus love him too much. If he had to actually rule the country, it would be a _disaster_. But somehow it'd still be 'beneath him' to date a mere cleric of Bahamut. Or at least that's what Ignis would say.

Which is why it's so weird that Ignis didn't bother to correct Dino's misconception. Why would he just _let_ someone think a prince would date him?

Prompto has to wait until they have some relative privacy to bring the question up, which means he has to wait for Ignis to haggle the price of a room first. And _then_ wait for their dinner to be delivered to their table. None of which Prompto has the patience for, of course. He fiddles with his napkin as they wait, pushes his silverware around the table and re-aligns it with the plate when someone at the next table scowls in his direction.

"Are you alright?" Ignis asks quietly. He puts his hand on top of Prompto's to still his fingers, so of _course_ Prompto's leg starts jiggling instead. Stupid _body_. "We have plenty of time to eat before the sun sets."

"I'm fine." Prompto puts his other hand on his knee and tries to hold it down, not that it works. "It's, um, not that."

Ignis stares patiently at him, waiting for an explanation, but the food isn't _there_ yet. Prompto looks around for their waiter, but he doesn't appear to be nearby. If he starts talking he knows they'll be interrupted, but he can't make Ignis wait forever.

"I was just wondering why you, um, let Dino think we were—you know." Prompto pulls his hand out from under Ignis' and rubs the back of his neck. "I didn't think you'd be okay with people thinking that, considering um. Who I am."

Ignis leans back in his chair and folds his hands together on the table. "I don't think what someone like _Dino_ believes is relevant."

Prompto drops his hand into his lap, twisting his fingers together, and tucks his feet underneath his chair to keep them from moving. "So it doesn't bother you that he thinks you're with _me_?"

Ignis' eyes narrow, but he doesn't look mad. He looks _confused_ , like Prompto is a puzzle he can't quite figure out or something. Prompto shifts in his seat and looks down at his hands instead. "He's unaware of who we are, so I'm not concerned about social ramifications." Ignis hesitates long enough that Prompto sneaks a glance back to his face. He has to swallow against the tightness in his throat, because Ignis looks _worried_. Unless Prompto is imagining that. "And there's no reason to dislike being associated with you personally, Prompto. You are not...unattractive."

"Oh." Prompto rubs his hands against his thighs. Oh man, he's blushing _again_. This is the _worst day ever_. "Um. Thank you?"

Ignis just nods, a sort of silent 'you're welcome' that doesn't quite hide the fact that his cheeks are a tinged a light pink too. It kind of makes Prompto feel better that Ignis is embarrassed, but now the silence between them is awkward.

Fortunately for both of them, their waiter has _excellent_ timing. The food is so good that it knocks all of the embarrassment right out of Prompto, and even Ignis insists on sending his compliments to the chef. Which gets them _free dessert_. Prompto almost declines it—he hasn't really eaten sweets in years—but it turns out the chef makes Luna's favorite pastries. And, well, he's never been able to say no to Luna.

He has a little more time to relax before sunset than he usually does with Ignis, but without dinner sitting between them he feels awkward all over again. Ignis was probably just being polite when he said Prompto wasn’t ugly; it’s not like he can be rude to a _prince_ , after all. But what if he _meant it_? What if he even thinks Prompto is _attractive_ or something?

Prompto runs a hand over his face. Now he’s just being silly. There’s no reason to be preoccupied with what Ignis thinks of him.

Except nobody has ever said they thought Prompto was attractive before. Not _really_. Luna and Noctis don’t count, and anyway he hasn’t even seen Noctis since they were kids, and anyone else…

“Are you dressed yet, Prompto?” Ignis asks, as if he can _hear_ that Prompto is just staring into space.

“Sorry!” Prompto scrambles into his robe. “Sorry, I was just thinking. I’m dressed.”

“Thank you.” Ignis turns around and stretches out on the bed. Prompto’s grateful that they have _two_ beds this time, instead of having to squeeze into a single one again. He doesn’t know how Ignis could stand being so close to a _daemon_. Prompto would have left himself on the floor if it was _him_.

Maybe that’s why he ended up getting cursed, while Ignis is a cleric. Maybe he deserves to turn into a daemon every night. Maybe something terrible will happen if they _do_ break the curse, to make up for the fact that he’s no longer being punished.

Prompto takes a deep breath and smooths his hands down the front of his robe. If Luna were here, she’d tell him he was too hard on himself, that he was a wonderful person and, even if he weren’t, that _nobody_ deserved to be turned into a daemon. Ravus would make a dry joke that would surprise him into laughter, then distract him with work that would remind him how good of a person he is. Noctis would be an _absolute dork_ and remind him how many people love him.

But none of them are _here_ , and the only person Prompto has to help him is Ignis. Who doesn’t know him well enough to know when he’s getting lost in his own head. So he has to figure this out on his own.

Prompto flops onto his bed next to his discarded bag and digs out his notebook. He flips open to a blank page, but there’s not really anything in the small bedroom to draw. Except…

“Um, Ignis?” Prompto bites his lip as Ignis looks over at him. “Would you mind if I drew you? You don’t have to, like, pose or anything, I just need a subject and the room is _boring_ and—yeah.”

Ignis’ eyes widen, but at least he doesn’t look offended or anything. He even gives Prompto a faint smile before he sits up and straightens his posture. “It would be a good idea to meditate while I have the chance anyway.” Ignis focuses his gaze on the potted plant across from his bed. “I have no objections about you drawing as I do.”

Prompto is kind of surprised that Ignis agreed, but he isn’t going to object. At least focusing on the art keeps him from thinking. And Ignis is a good subject, barely even seeming to breathe as time slides ever closer to sundown. Prompto gets so lost trying to capture the shadows in his hair, he almost leaps off the bed when Ignis finally moves.

“It’s almost time,” Ignis says. His eyebrows raise as he comes over to Prompto’s bed and looks down at his notebook. Prompto resists the urge to cover up his work, tapping the end of his pencil against the page. “Your work is very good.”

“Oh.” Prompto scratches behind his ear with the tip of the pencil. “It’s really not—I mean, it’s just a sketch.”

Ignis frowns, probably about to tell Prompto something silly about how he’s being too hard on himself just like Luna does, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He flips the notebook closed and stows it back in his bag. He can hear Ignis sigh behind him, but now that he’s up he’s suddenly aware of just _how_ late it is.

“Why didn’t you stop me sooner?” He can feel the pressure of the change building up in his chest, but he’s not _ready_. Not that he ever is, but he hasn’t even had time to brace himself and—

“I didn’t want to interrupt you,” Ignis says, but anything he has to add is lost to the buzzing that overtakes Prompto’s hearing.

Prompto flinches and waits for the magic to boil up through his blood, the suffocating tightness of his skin as his body reforms. It never comes. There’s just a faint, itchy bubbling that makes him want to peel his skin off, and the darkness fading over his vision until he’s aware of nothing at all.


	6. Chapter 6

Ignis wakes with the dawn as is his usual custom, rolling over and letting an arm flop over his eyes. The nightly drain on his magic makes getting out of bed difficult in a way he’s not accustomed to, but he _knows_ he needs to move. The longer he leaves Prompto asleep, the longer it’ll take for his magic to reaccumulate, and the higher the chance the daemon will wake up the next night.

But he’s just so damned _tired_.

He groans because there’s nobody there to hear it, then disentangles himself from the blankets and crosses over to the other bed. The prince hasn’t even twitched, still deep under Ignis’ spell, but he looks…good. Better-rested and healthier than he had that first afternoon in the throne room, his exhaustion painfully evident the moment Ignis had bothered to _look_.

Well, even if this trip doesn’t end the way they hope, at least he’ll have given Prompto this small period of relief. And perhaps having his sister back will be of some benefit as well.

But it’ll be several days yet until they have to worry about that. They have to get _to_ Ravatogh first, and the roads of Lucis aren’t always kind to travelers. The sooner they start out, the better.

The spell lifts as gently as fog, and Prompto blinks awake with an immediate, familiar smile. Which he ruins by rolling over and shoving his face in the pillow, yawning theatrically and piling his arms on top of his head.

“I hate mornings,” he grumbles. Ignis only understands it from _years_ of experience parsing Noctis’ early morning complaints.

“I’m sure they’re no more enamored with you.” Ignis pats Prompto’s shoulder and goes to get dressed. “Up we go. Breakfast awaits.”

Prompto whines wordlessly, but Ignis can hear the sheets rustling. At least he’s easier to get out of bed than Noctis. He doesn’t think his more creative methods would be appropriate just yet.

With a little gentle prodding from Ignis, Prompto is prepared to go quickly enough, and they settle themselves at the counter outside for breakfast. Most of which, inexplicably, includes _fish_.

Ignis doesn’t understand shore towns. He’s _traveled_ the nearby countryside. It’s not like they can’t get the ingredients to cook literally _anything else_. He orders something more appropriate and settles in to wait while Prompto drapes himself across the counter and looks like he’s going back to sleep again.

Eventually a mug of steaming coffee is deposited in front of Ignis, at the same time a group of tired hunters deposit themselves next to him. Prompto jerks upright as their weapons clang against the wood, and his eyes grow wide as he takes them in. He scoots his stool in a little closer to Ignis’, wincing at the screech it makes on the floor tiles.

“Relax.” Ignis leans in close to Prompto so he can speak without being overheard, not that anyone is so much as looking at them. “They’ve just returned from killing daemons. They’re not interested in us.”

Prompto still looks nervous, tapping his fingers soundlessly against his leg, but he at least _tries_ to look relaxed, so Ignis lets him be. He turns to the hunters instead.

“Good morning,” he says, smiling politely at the nods he receives in return. “Did last night’s hunting fare well?”

The hunters jostle each other for a moment before one of them takes the stool next to Ignis with a scowl. She looks him and Prompto over slowly before she answers, eyes lingering on their packed bags.

“Nobody died, if that’s what you mean. Not for lack of _trying_ , mind you.” She shrugs and makes a vague gesture toward her companions as they protest. “You boys traveling?”

“Headed out to Ravatogh this morning.” Ignis sees no point in lying; hunters tend to stick around their home base, and they’re unlikely to cause any trouble anyway. It’s the people already out on the roads that they’ll have to worry about. “We have some business to attend to in the area.”

Another of the hunters hooks his arm around the first’s shoulders and gives Ignis a mocking grin. “Oh yeah? You heard about the dragon up there too, have you?”

“Ugh, John, would you stop going _on_ about that?” Someone else punches him in the shoulder. “ _Everyone_ knows dragons died out hundreds of years ago, with the moogles and malboros.”

“Anyway, it’s a _princess_ being held up there.” A different woman sighs dreamily. “And if _he_ didn’t have his friends keeping an eye on him—”

John makes a disgusted noise. “Are you still going on about that innkeeper? He’s not some fairy tale hero.”

“Says the man talking about _dragons_.”

“Yeah, I sure hope _you_ know what you’re getting into.” The woman who had answered Ignis rolls her eyes. “Because the rumor mill is just getting crazier the longer the king lets whatever’s up there _stay_ up there.”

“I’m sure he’ll have it taken care of soon enough.” Ignis is distracted from the conversation by their breakfast, but _also_ by a much less welcome arrival. He frowns as the man from last night helps himself to the seat on Prompto’s other side.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Dino says, leaning in _far_ too close to the prince. But Prompto doesn’t respond with anything more negative than a faint blush, so Ignis can’t do anything besides glare his displeasure. “And your very grumpy boyfriend, of course. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not trying to steal him. Unless you’re willing to share.” And then he _winks_. At _Ignis_.

“W-willing to—Dino!” _Now_ Prompto leans away from him, covering his face with his hands. He’s blushing so hard the back of his neck is bright red. “That’s not even—we’re not—”

Dino leans an elbow on the counter and props his head up on his hand, grinning at Prompto like he’s never seen something so adorable in his life. Ignis reluctantly admits that it’s a fair reaction, but resolutely refuses to feel any more fond of him.

“Perhaps you can find your entertainment elsewhere this morning,” Ignis suggests, nudging Prompto’s plate toward him. “We’d like to _enjoy_ our breakfast before we leave.”

“You could stay a while instead.” Dino sighs theatrically. “The two of you are a vast improvement on the scenery, you know.”

Ignis rolls his eyes. “Well, I’m afraid we have more important scenery in want of our presence.”

“The volcano, right? Off to fight dragons and rescue princesses?” Dino gives them a long once-over and shrugs. “Guess there’s more to you boys than I thought. I’ll have to keep an eye out for you on your way back.”

Ignis narrows his eyes, but Dino’s interest in them has already waned in favor of the chef. Well, Ignis will just have to keep an eye on _him_ in return, in case Dino’s interest in them turns out to be something less harmless than that of a simple flirt.

In the meantime, they _do_ have to get on the road as soon as possible. He makes quick work of his breakfast, then asks about the state of the roads to Ravatogh while he waits for Prompto to finish his. He’s disheartened to hear that Deadeye is on the prowl again, keeping the tamed chocobos trapped on Wiz’s ranch. They’ll have to walk the whole way there.

“How long will that take?” Prompto asks, his nose wrinkling as he adjusts his pack.

“We should reach the base of the volcano in about four days.” Ignis gives Prompto a doubtful look. “I will try not to make it too difficult on you, but the rest areas were planned for hardened travelers, not for tourists.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine.” Prompto gives him a sunny smile. “I _like_ walking.”

“And how do you feel about camping?” Ignis raises his eyebrows.

“Um.” Prompto’s smile falters slightly. “Not really a fan. There’s bugs _everywhere_ , and the daemons are _right there_ and—oh no. How many times are we camping?”

“We’ll have to stay at Oathe Haven tonight.” Ignis rubs a hand against his chin and considers a mental map of Duscae. “And with the chocobos out of service, Schier Heights will be all but impassable. Tomorrow night we’ll stay at Fallaughns, to ensure we make it to Old Lestallum before nightfall….”

Prompto nods along as Ignis continues explaining his plans, though he looks nervous at the very concept of being caught outside with the daemons. Ignis supposes he can’t blame him. The master tonberry might be a powerful daemon, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t hunters—and other daemons—who aren't able take him down. He could easily be killed out there in the darkness. Or kill someone else, which might be worse.

At least he seems easily distracted by the scenery. Oathe is close enough to Galdin Quay that Ignis deems it safe to test Prompto’s stamina by traversing cross-country with him. Not that the walk is a particularly _difficult_ one. Ignis sighs as some of the tension in his shoulders melts away, and he rolls up his sleeves in deference to the humidity.

“I can’t believe how hot it is,” Prompto whines. Ignis looks over to see Prompto fanning himself as he walks, but he doesn’t look winded. Perhaps his skin is a little flushed, but that could be caused by the sunlight on his fair skin as easily as the heat. “Where’s all the animals? Are they hiding from the sunlight?”

“Unlikely.” Ignis shields his eyes against the sun. “The hunters in the area are paid well to keep it free of threats. Galdin is known as something of a resort area for the wealthy. We should stumble on something soon enough.”

What Ignis had neglected to consider was just what kind of trouble such a combination might attract. He was accustomed to traveling the countryside as part of Prince Noctis’ entourage, never straying far from the heavily-armed Crownsguard and dressed in his own official traveling robes. Men would have to be detached from reality to attack such a group. But Ignis is to all appearances unarmed, and Prompto…well. For all that Prompto’s bow is kept in good repair, it’s hard to feel threatened by someone who occasionally _skips_ across the landscape.

They haven’t quite hit the plains when the men begin to approach them, emerging from the trees with friendly smiles and knives in their hands. Ignis automatically pushes Prompto behind him, curling his hand in the air though he doesn’t summon his lance just yet. If he’s lucky, he won’t even need it.

“Good afternoon, friends,” the lead bandit says, stepping closer to Ignis. “You’re out in the wild rather late, aren’t you?”

“We’re only trying to make it to the haven.” Ignis gestures to the horizon behind the men, where he can see the tree line starting to thin out. “It shouldn’t take us long to get there, if you would simply let us pass by unharassed.”

“Oh, I don’t know. That’s a fine bow your boy’s got there.” The bandit flips his knife in his hand, a gesture that _would_ be threatening if it weren’t done so amateurly. “Give it to us as payment and we’ll think about letting you by.”

“Um, no?” Prompto’s voice wavers a little. “Ravus would _kill_ me.”

Ignis is going to have talk to him about how to sound confident when he’s being attacked. That was just _pathetic_. He clears his throat. “It would really be in your best interests to let us past. I’m a cleric of Bahamut—”

“Yeah, and I’m the lost queen of Tenebrae.” The leader makes a gesture toward Ignis. “We’ll just _take_ what we want then.”

Ignis spares a moment to be annoyed by the audacity of these men, and then he sweeps his hand through the air as he calls to Bahamut to grant him access to his blessed lance. A simple spin knocks the first two men away from him, and for a brief moment he’s almost disappointed by how easy the fight will be.

Then several more men appear from _nowhere_ , and he takes a step back to recalculate his odds. These men are untrained civilians, but he can only take on so many at once without injury. It’d be simpler if he could put them to sleep, but it would hardly be fair to use magic against normal people.

Well, it won’t be the first time he’s had to travel wounded, and it’s unlikely to be the last. They’ll just have to make the trip a little longer while they rest in Cauthess. The important thing is to keep Prompto safe, the same as he would Noctis. He keeps this in mind as he throws himself into the fight, careful not to injure anyone more than absolutely necessary. He can hear Prompto moving around, and spares a faint thought to hope that he has the sense to find somewhere to hide.

He doesn’t expect to find himself saved from an attack a moment later when an arrow knocks a man’s knife out of his hand. He hears Prompto whoop in excitement, which soon turns into a yelp and the distinct sound of someone being _kicked_.

Ignis sticks his lance’s blade into the ground so he can swing around it and kick a man in the chest—better than stabbing him _through_ the chest—and then glances over to see just what Prompto is doing. Prompto grins to himself as he shoots a man heading toward Ignis in the _ass_ , then dodges his own assailant to knock the sword out of his hand with a tight spinning kick.

Ignis is surprised enough by this show of talent that he almost misses a man about to bash into his side with a shield. Prompto had made such a show of being mediocre and unassuming that even _Ignis_ had believed it. Perhaps even Prompto believes it himself. But he’s been trained as well as any warrior, no matter that his choice of weapon would be considered unconventional to most of the aristocracy.

Between the two of them, the bandits don’t stand a chance. Ignis shakes his head at the men clutching at wounds and glaring at him, but none of them are stupid enough to get up attack again as he walks away.

“Are we just going to let them go?” Prompto asks, almost tripping over himself as he rushes after Ignis. And he’d been so _graceful_ in the fight. Ignis hides a smile by ducking his head to scratch at his chin.

“There’s little we can do from here.” Ignis gestures back the way they came. “Galdin Quay has no armed forces to send out here, and Cauthess is likely overwhelmed with other issues.”

“Oh, but…” Prompto chews on his lip and looks behind himself, where the bandits are likely gathering themselves for a hasty trip to Galdin before nightfall. “I guess not every problem can be solved. Luna always makes being queen look so _easy_.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "So a cleric of Bahamut and a cursed prince of Tenebrae walk into a bar..." sounds like the start of a really bad joke, doesn't it? :D

Prompto doesn’t like camping, but he does love the havens. The presence of safety and calm is something he doesn’t normally feel even at home, and he hovers a little too close to the ethereal blue light as Ignis sets up camp by himself.

Not that Prompto hadn’t offered his help. He isn’t some lazy, pampered prince who just has people do things for him all the time. But Ignis had given him a _look_ and told him to relax, so Prompto…doesn’t relax, but he does stay out of the way. It’s not like he actually knows anything about setting up camp anyway. He’d probably just knock the tent over or something.

He just wishes it didn’t make him feel so useless. He knows he’s just a burden on this trip, cutting short their travel time and attracting attention to them. He probably hadn’t even been much use in that fight, not with the way Ignis had been so—so—he doesn’t have the words for it. It’s like Ignis had come alive with that lance in his hands, graceful and breathtaking and _amazing_.

Prompto really is standing too close to the light. He takes a step back and fans his face a little, overheated from the not-fire. Maybe he should sit down.

Ignis finishes up with the tent and heads toward Prompto, pulling out some cooking supplies and making Prompto feel guilty all over again. Is there anything Ignis _isn’t_ going to end up doing for him?

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Prompto tries not to hover, but he’s pretty sure he fails. He just can’t _help_ it. “I-I mean, I don’t know how to cook, really. But I could cut stuff up or something? Or you could teach me, maybe!”

Ignis squints at the horizon, then slowly shakes his head. “There’s not enough time to teach you even the basics, Prompto. Perhaps if we hadn’t been attacked…” He smiles, much more warmly than any of the smiles Prompto has seen before. Prompto chews on his lip as his chest flutters embarrassingly. It’s just _Ignis_. Why is he reacting like this? “If we have some time after you’ve been cured, I’d be happy to teach you what I can. But I’m afraid tonight’s meal will have to be a bit rushed.”

“O-oh, um, that’d be great!” Prompto rubs at his cheeks and hopes they’re not as flushed as he feels. “I’ll just, um. I’ll just sit over here and wait then.”

Prompto skitters over to the opposite side of the fire, as far away from Ignis as he can get without making it obvious that he’s trying to avoid him. He puts his face in his hands and tries not to whine to himself _too_ loudly. Okay, so maybe he has a thing for Ignis. That’s new and unsettling and definitely not something he’s equipped to handle. Why couldn’t he have a nice, _normal_ crush on Aranea? She’s beautiful, smart, and totally badass too!

“Is everything alright?” Ignis touches Prompto’s shoulder lightly, but it still makes him jump.

“Y-yeah, fine!” Prompto rubs his cheek and grins. “Is the food done already? That’s really fast!”

“It was a simple meal.” Ignis hands him a plate and steps away a few feet, where he’s left his own plate on the ground. He crosses his legs as he sits, balancing the plate neatly on his knees without any of the food even sliding around.

Prompto looks down at his own food, which has slid together into an unrecognizable mess already. _Ugh_.

He pokes a fork through it a bit reluctantly, not really sure what to expect. His experiences with camp food have mostly been Aranea’s cooking, and as much as he _adores_ her, she’s never going to be a chef. Ignis’ cooking can’t possibly be worse than hers.

The very first bite is so full of flavor he almost chokes on it in surprise, and then he devours the entire plateful in far less time than could possibly be considered polite. _Wow_. Is there _anything_ Ignis isn’t good at?

“Well, I’m not much of a singer,” Ignis says. Oh no, did Prompto ask that _out loud_? Why does he even _exist_? “I take it you like the meal?”

“Yeah, it’s _fantastic_. Better than the cooks at the manor.” Prompto isn’t exaggerating, but Ignis shrugs off the compliment like he doesn’t believe it. “I mean it! I haven’t had something this good in years.”

“Thank you.” Ignis stares intently down at his plate, stirring around the food left on it. His cheeks look a little pink, but Prompto _must_ be imagining things. He can’t possibly be embarrassed because Prompto is complimenting him, can he?

Now Prompto _knows_ he’s being ridiculous. Who’d be embarrassed over _him_?

Prompto sets his plate aside and grabs his bag, pulling out his notebook instead. The land around him is a great distraction from Ignis, and he focuses on it so he doesn’t have to look up again. He feels another twinge of guilt when he hears Ignis cleaning up the dishes, but if he focuses _really_ hard on the shadows under the trees he can kind of ignore it.

“Prompto. It’s time.” Ignis’ louder than usual voice filters in past his own absent-minded humming, and Prompto looks up with a start to see the sun already well on its way down. He trips over himself getting to his feet and barely gets his notebook away in time. The best he can do for his clothes before the magic starts to take over is to toss them onto his pack. He _really_ hopes nothing gets ruined.

The second day of travel is even easier than the first, since nothing jumps out of the grass or scrub to feast on them—man _or_ beast—and Prompto gets to enjoy Ignis’ cooking _three_ times. He would die for Ignis’ cooking, no lie. He would go to _war_ for his cooking. Noct wouldn’t know what hit him.

He even tells Ignis that, or at least sort of mumbles it gleefully while Ignis hands him a second bowl of soup. Well, he doesn’t really _mean_ to say anything. It just sort of slips out. Ignis seems to decide Prompto is joking, because he laughs—and it’s a _nice_ laugh, like he thinks Prompto is _funny_ , which is weird. Nobody ever thinks he’s funny. Ignis shouldn’t be any different.

Especially since it makes Prompto’s stomach do a weird sort of flip, and he has to spend ten minutes reminding himself that Ignis is off limits. Gentiana is more accessible than Ignis is, and she’s…well, she’s _Gentiana_. It’d be like having a crush on Shiva herself.

Prompto shivers at _that_ terrifying thought and pushes it out of his mind, forces himself to think about the trip still ahead of them instead. He can see the volcano in the distance, smoke rising from the crater, and even having dealt with Tenebrae’s humidity all of his life he’s not looking forward to dealing with that heat. Or to how much walking they still have ahead of them. He can’t believe they’re going to cover that much ground in _two days_. Maybe the volcano is closer than it appears?

Or maybe the third day is going to be _torture_. Prompto regrets saying he enjoys walking. He regrets saying he was going to be fine. If he makes it out of this trip alive, he never wants to walk anywhere again. Which won’t be a problem, because he’s already sure his legs have fallen off.

Oh Astrals, what if he’s died and just _never noticed_? He’ll be doomed to walk these plains _forever_. Will he still turn into a daemon when the sun sets? Is there any such _thing_ as a ghost daemon? He probably won’t even get to find out, because he still won’t remember his transformations. Ugh. Not only was life unfair, but death is totally unfair _too_.

“Hurry up, Prompto!” Ignis calls from ahead. Prompto’s probably not dead, then. “Old Lestallum’s just on the other side of these bridges.”

Prompto looks up and takes in the form of the covered bridge in front of him. The rickety, old, somewhat gray-ish bridge that creaks alarmingly under his feet the second he steps onto a plank of wood. He jumps right back off it, feeling suddenly very extremely awake, and also very extremely _terrified_.

“Ohhhh, no,” he says, backing away a little further. The dirt road leading up to the bridge puffs dust up around his feet and he sneezes. “Nuh-uh, nope. That bridge is older than Emperor Aldercapt.”

“Prompto, we don’t have time for this.” Ignis is already under the roof of the bridge, waiting for Prompto with a hand on his hip. He sighs and rubs his forehead with his other hand. “Unless you’d prefer to go all the way around the gorge—which would add another _week_ of travel, at least—this is the only way we’re getting to Ravatogh.”

“Okay, but what happens if the bridge breaks while we’re walking on it?” Prompto crosses his arms.

Ignis blinks slowly at him, like he’s not entirely certain what’s going on. “Well, I suppose we would go down with it. But I don’t see—”

“We would _die_ , Ignis!” Prompto waves his hands in a gesture that he hopes encompasses the bridge’s complete lack of bridgeness. “Look at that thing. If a bridge in Tenebrae looked like that, there’d be _riots_.”

“Well, there aren’t many clerics of Titan in Tenebrae, are there?” Ignis walks back toward Prompto, his footsteps echoing on the wood. Prompto winces at every creak, but the bridge doesn’t _act_ like it’s going to fall apart. “I personally agree that the bridges should be manually repaired, but the kings of Lucis have long preferred to depend on magic for such things.”

“So, your bridges are _blessed_?” Prompto still isn’t comfortable walking on it, though. The Astrals can be picky and temperamental, and they love to play favorites. He knows _all_ about that.

“Cleric Leonis tours the country twice a year himself.” Ignis wraps a hand around Prompto’s arm and gives a gentle tug. Prompto takes a reluctant step forward; they’ve heard about the high cleric of Titan even in Tenebrae. If any scary-looking bridge is safe, this is going to be the one. “If it _does_ collapse, I’ll help you haunt him.”

Prompto giggles with laughter, probably more than is warranted, but it eases some of the tension in his chest. Ignis doesn’t let go of his arm while they cross the bridge, and that probably helps too. It’s like a reminder that he’s not alone, that he’s not the only person braving this thing that’s literally held together with _prayer_.

The roof of the covered bridge eventually runs out, and then it heads straight into _more_ bridge, which Ignis drags Prompto across without pause. Prompto can’t exactly complain. They can _see_ the gorge over the railing of this one, and left to his own devices he’d freeze in terrified awe. But he can also see the sun threatening to slide down into the horizon, and they still have way too far to walk.

“Ignis…”

“Save your breath for walking.” Ignis’ grip tightens and he pulls Prompto along faster, until they’re practically running toward the town.

People watch with faint curiosity as they make their way directly to the inn, but it’s close enough to sunset that their hurry is probably understandable. Nobody wants to be left outside of town in the dark.

The innkeeper greets them with a big, friendly smile when they walk up to the counter, but Prompto feels too nervous to smile back. He keeps his eyes trained on the tiny windows, half expecting sunset to sneak up on him if he doesn’t.

“We need a room for two, please.” Ignis sounds _way_ too calm. Prompto squeezes his elbow.

“You sure you don’t want a meal first?” The innkeeper’s grin widens. “Nyx’s food ain’t that great, but you boys look hungry enough to eat it.”

“I’ll come back down for food once we’ve settled in.” Ignis adjusts his glasses, looking briefly toward Prompto. “My companion gets anxious around strangers after dark. It’s better that he eats alone.”

The innkeeper shrugs like that’s a perfectly normal request. He grabs a key off a board hanging next to him and he and Ignis discuss the cost. Prompto tunes it out, shifting impatiently on his feet. He’s not sure if the itching in his skin is the curse manifesting or his own nervousness, but either way he wants _out_.

“Prompto.” Ignis jiggles his arm, not quite freeing it from Prompto’s too-tight grip, and guides him up the cramped stairs and into the even more cramped room. He closes and, more importantly, bolts the door behind him.

Prompto’s fingers shake as he yanks off his clothes, but he tries not to think about it. About how close they’d been cutting it, how _easily_ they could’ve been trapped into making small talk with the innkeeper until it was too late, and there was an entire _building_ full of people for a daemon to murder.

He wonders what it’s like not to have worries like this. It hasn’t been _that_ long since he was cursed. He should be able to remember.


	8. Chapter 8

Once Ignis gets Prompto settled in bed, he goes back downstairs in search of the promised meal. Following his nose leads him to a dining room packed with scarred wooden tables. He crosses the room to choose a table in the corner from which he can see all the exits, and the moment he sits down a woman emerges from the dingy air with a mug in her hand.

“Hey. Name’s Crowe.” She wipes at the clean tabletop with a cloth before she puts the mug down, then leans against it. The smirk she gives Ignis is friendly and mischievous. “Only one thing on the menu tonight, and honestly it’s not going to be that great. But it makes Nyx feel useful, and it’ll fill you up.”

“I’m sure I’ve eaten worse.” Ignis picks up the mug and takes a cautious sip. It’s better than he’d expected, pleasantly fruity and not watered down. “If not, I think your ale might make up for the meal’s deficits.”

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.” Crowe tucks her cleaning cloth away and strides off toward the kitchen.

Ignis leans back and closes his eyes, letting the faint buzz of conversation in the room relax him. The inn isn’t very busy, but there’s enough people for the voices to become white noise. It’s familiar enough that he finds himself jerking awake when he hears the sound of Crowe’s footsteps approaching his table again.

“Long day?” Crowe’s expression is sympathetic as she sets a bowl of stew down in front of Ignis. She hands him a spoon rolled up in a napkin as well, then crosses her arms and waits.

“It’s a rough walk from Fallaughns Haven,” Ignis says as he unwraps the spoon. He lays the napkin out on his lap and pulls the bowl in toward him, grimacing at the smell. He can already tell it’s not going to be the most palatable dish he’s ever encountered, but it doesn’t _look_ too bad. “I’m afraid the trip has tired both of us out.”

“Not easy without a chocobo.” Crowe sits down across from Ignis and utterly ignores the half-hearted glare he gives her. “Where are you two headed? Not much all the way out here.”

Ignis pauses eating to give her a long look. Crowe’s _probably_ just being nosy—innkeepers and their ilk are well-known for being gossips—but she could have something more nefarious in mind. If she’s figured out who Ignis is, she could be hoping to gain some information that would be harmful to the Crown. And if she knows who _Prompto_ is….

But her expression is open and guileless, full of nothing but innocent curiosity. Ignis eats another spoonful of stew as he debates the merits of answering. Old Lestallum is far enough away from anything that any trouble she _does_ plan to cause is unlikely to reach them before they accomplish their goals.

“We’re going to investigate the rumors about Ravatogh.” Ignis looks up at Crowe’s soft gasp. She has a hand over her mouth, but it doesn’t hide the surprise in her eyes. “Do you know anything about it? The hunters had several different stories to tell.”

“Oh, I don’t know much.” Crowe lowers her hand slowly and looks toward the kitchen. She curls a finger around the loose hair hanging by her face. “But I know someone who _does_.”

Ignis hadn’t been expecting to hear that. Crowe slaps her hands against the table hard enough to make it shake, and when she walks off her stride is more determined than the idle sway she used before.

Ignis finishes his bowl of stew while he waits for her to return. He should ask for a second bowl to keep up appearances; it’ll be suspicious for a number of reasons if he doesn’t at least attempt to give Prompto dinner. But the minutes tick by endlessly, and Ignis finds himself thinking longingly of the second bed in their room. He’d prefer to be watching over Prompto from close by, where he can see any evidence of him fighting against the magic long before he’d ever feel it.

There aren’t any footsteps to herald someone’s presence before a man throws himself into the seat Crowe had abandoned. He lounges like he owns the room, giving Ignis a judgmental once-over, and his lips quirk in a confident smirk when their eyes catch. He’s still wearing a stained apron over his simple tunic.

“You must be Nyx,” Ignis says before the man even opens his mouth. He pushes the empty bowl away from himself so he can lace his fingers together on top of the table. “Since you’ve come out to speak with me yourself, I’d might as well put in a complaint about the meal. It was less of a stew, and more overcooked meat in a poorly conceived gravy.”

“Yeah, I probably deserve that.” Nyx snickers and spreads his arms in a dramatic shrug. “I say we should just leave the cooking to Libertus, but he doesn’t think it’s fair. What’re you going to do?”

“Perhaps you might try learning how to cook.” Ignis gives him a pointed look. “But I don’t think you came out here to solicit my opinion.”

“You’re right.” Nyx rubs at his stubble and leans forward. “I’m going to Ravatogh with you.”

Ignis stares at him. Nyx stares unblinkingly back, tapping his fingers against the table restlessly. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” Nyx holds up a hand to forestall Ignis’ argument. Ignis reluctantly bites back the words, willing to at least hear him out. “Look, you don’t know what you’re up against, but _I_ do. You can’t take him out alone.”

“And I’m sure you’ve got the solution to that problem.” Ignis waves away Nyx’s affronted expression and stands up to head back to the room. He doesn’t have the patience for overconfident, interfering innkeepers who ought to be minding their own business. “You’re not coming with us. We haven’t enough supplies.”

“You can’t stop me.” Ignis turns around to glare, expecting to see Nyx lounging with an infuriating smirk. But he’s stood up as well, his face grim and his hands balled into tight fists at his side. “Do you _know_ who’s up there? I’ll follow you if I have to. She deserves better than to be rescued by some stranger who’ll try to take advantage—”

“I would never _consider_ doing such a thing.” Ignis takes a deep breath. “I suppose I can’t stop you. Just don’t expect us to wait if you fall behind.”

Ignis doesn’t wait for a response before he spins away. He should’ve just gone back to the room the second he’d finished his stew, appearances be damned. The last thing they need is a stranger whose interactions he can’t predict. As confident as he seems, he might balk in battle, or panic when he’s confronted with Prompto’s nightly transformation. And if he even looks like he’s _thinking_ about laying a hand on Prompto, well, Ignis did promise to protect him.

Though, the longer he observes Prompto, the less he suspects he _needs_ protection. The fight against the bandits was proof enough that he can handle himself, and he’d held pace with Ignis cross-country more easily than expected. Then, of course, there’s the form his curse decided to take…

Ignis enters the room as quietly as he left it. Prompto hasn’t moved at all, but Ignis adjusts the blankets around him anyway. Being so close to a daemon—even one that had been human just an hour earlier—should disturb him more than it does. Perhaps it’s simply the fact that he knows it’s _Prompto_ under the discolored skin that allows him feel to so cavalier about the proximity. It doesn’t hurt that, with the light on and no knife in its hand, the tonberry almost looks _cute_. If he didn’t have first-hand experience of the kind of damage they could do, he’d be easily fooled into thinking they were harmless.

Which may turn out to be a fairly apt description of Prompto. He’s looking forward to the moment Prompto proves just what he’s capable of.

Ignis isn’t quite sure how to bring up the topic of Nyx joining them for the last leg of their trip the next morning. He tries to mention it several times, but Prompto is always so _cheerful_ in the morning (once he’s been convinced to get out of bed at least), that he doesn’t want to interrupt his good mood. He finds himself hoping instead that Nyx somehow managed to forget that he’d invited himself along, or perhaps that he would sleep too late and not see them leave.

It’s a ridiculous hope, and he knows it, but he’s still disappointed when Nyx flops down at the breakfast table with them. He frowns at Prompto like he’s trying to figure out who he is.

“Um, hi?” Prompto looks between Nyx and Ignis uncertainly, a small piece of overcooked egg dangling from his raised fork.

“Nyx, this is Prompto.” Ignis sighs and gestures vaguely toward Nyx. “Prompto, Nyx will be—”

“I _knew_ I recognized you.” Nyx sits up, his back as straight as a soldier’s standing at attention. “You’re the—”

Prompto’s fork clatters against his plate at the same time Ignis _accidentally_ knocks over his glass of juice in Nyx’s direction. Nyx shoves his chair away from the table just in time to avoid his lap getting soaked, and he gives Ignis a rather half-hearted glare. Ignis glances pointedly in Prompto’s direction as he cleans up his spill.

“Shit, sorry.” Nyx reaches out toward Prompto with a grimace. His hand hovers awkwardly in the air for a moment before he lets it drop. “So, uh. I guess you _do_ know what to expect.”

“Y-yeah.” Prompto clears his throat and gives Nyx a wobbly smile. “The whole reason we came out here was for Luna. Prince Noctis sent Ignis out to help me get her back.”

“Right.” Nyx rubs the back of his head. “Well, I guess we should get going then? It’ll take most of the day to get to the base of the mountain.”

This leg of the trip isn’t _quite_ as long as the distance between Fallaughns Haven and Old Lestallum had been, but Prompto is quiet despite the relatively relaxed pace. Ignis leaves him to his thoughts, uncertain if any intrusion would be welcome, but Nyx doesn’t seem to have any such qualms.

“Hey, cheer up.” Nyx bumps a fist gently against Prompto’s shoulder. Prompto gives him a distracted half smile. “You’ll have your sister back in no time.”

“Sure.” Prompto fiddles with his arm brace, staring down at his feet as he walks. “But you seem like you’ve been out here for a while. Why haven’t you just…gotten her back already?”

Nyx scowls and kicks at some loose pebbles in front of him. “You _know_ General Glauca, don’t you?” When Prompto grimaces and nods, Nyx makes a vague dismissive gesture. “I can keep him from killing me, but there’s no way I can _beat_ him. Not alone. But if Ignis has your friend’s vote of confidence, we might be able to handle him together.”

“ _Might_?” Prompto’s voice is small and worried, and he hunches his shoulders around his ears like he’s trying to make himself smaller. Ignis decides that the conversation has gone on long enough.

“We’ll accomplish nothing if we focus on the possibility of failure,” Ignis points out. He steps closer to Prompto and gently rests a hand against his arm. “We will rescue Queen Lunafreya, Prompto. There is no other option.”

Prompto’s shoulders relax and he smiles weakly. Ignis smiles back and gives his arm a pat before he lets his hand drop.

“Damnit, Crowe,” Nyx mutters to himself, and refuses to explain what he meant.

The inn at the base of Ravatogh is little more than a shack, and it looks decrepit enough to fall apart if a harsh wind blows on it. Ignis scowls at the proprietor as he’s given the key to the “best room” the place offers, which boasts two full beds and _probably_ no bed bugs.

He’s not at all comforted by the ‘probably’ qualifier. But there’s nowhere else to spend the night, and it’d be impossible to make it up the mountain before night fell. He supposes the conditions could be worse. They could be running from actual daemons all night, after all.

Honestly, he’d prefer the daemons.

“Not exactly the royal suite, huh?” Nyx throws his bag onto one of the beds and sighs. “They could at least try to make the place nice.”

“You’re welcome to spend the night outside, if you prefer.” Ignis turns to Prompto, who’s trying to unlatch the single window without success. “Prompto, do you need Nyx to leave?”

“Nah, he’d might as well see it.” Prompto doesn’t look at either of them as he pulls a spare robe out of his bag. He hasn’t used one for any of his transformations since they made it to Lucis, but Ignis understands why he’d want to tonight. “I’m just gonna get changed real quick.”

Nyx and Ignis watch Prompto sidle out of the room, and then Nyx turns to Ignis with confusion writ across his face. “What’s that about?”

“I know the stories have reached Lucis.” Ignis curls a hand loosely in the air in case he needs to reach for a dagger. It seems suspicious that an innkeeper, of all people, wouldn’t have heard the rumors of Prompto’s curse.

“Wait, you mean the curse is _real_?” Nyx looks so astonished that Ignis can’t help but believe him. “Come on, that kind of stuff doesn’t happen in real life.”

“I wasn’t only sent to save the queen. Why would Prompto need to be here for that?” Ignis shrugs. “You’re about to witness his curse first-hand regardless. Unless you don’t think you can handle it?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Nyx rubs at his neck. “I just can’t believe he’s a daemon. Luna always talked about him like he was made of pure sunshine or something.”

Ignis isn’t sure how to respond to that. Prompto is certainly one of the most cheerful, upbeat people he’s ever known in his life, but nobody is completely pure and innocent. And even if they were, well, that’s the whole point of a curse, isn’t it? Nobody is immune to a malediction cast by a servant of the gods.

Prompto bursts back into the room with his clothes folded neatly—or at least as neatly as he ever manages—and shoves them haphazardly back in his pack. Nyx watches with wide eyes as he does, then makes a face when he notices Ignis watching him.

“I just looked outside and it’s almost time,” Prompto says in a rush. He twists his hands together and looks toward the sealed window again. “Nothing’s going to happen, right? Even with someone else here?”

“It’s no different than any other night.” Ignis gestures for Nyx to move closer to the door despite his words; if something _does_ go wrong, he wants to be sure the civilian will make it out first. “Try to relax. Everything’s fine.”

Prompto nods jerkily and closes his eyes. He takes several deliberately deep breathes that do seem to help calm him down, and they all wait in tense silence as the minutes tick by.

Ignis makes sure to keep both Prompto and Nyx in his view, so when the transformation begins he can see every twitch of expression on Nyx’s face. He’s not surprised when Nyx reaches for the weapons hanging blatantly at his waist and shifts his feet in preparation for a fight. At least he waits to follow Ignis’ lead before beginning an attack on his own, so Ignis has Prompto under the spell before Nyx has likely processed what kind of daemon they’re dealing with.

“That’s it?” Nyx asks as Ignis walks over to Prompto and picks him up. “And he just sleeps through the night?”

“Provided my magic doesn’t fail, yes.” Ignis carefully tucks Prompto into bed and grabs his pack so he can change as well. “It’s not sustainable over the long-term, but for this trip it’s been working well enough.”

Nyx doesn’t ask any more questions as they prepare for sleep, and the next few hours pass quietly as they find things to occupy themselves with. But when they finally turn in for the night and Ignis starts to crawl into the bed behind the tonberry, Nyx can’t seem to keep himself quiet.

“Are you sleeping _with the daemon_?” Nyx is halfway into his own bed, but he looks prepared to jump back out of it. “What if he wakes up? Look, I can sleep on the floor or something if you need me to. You can have this bed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ignis gives Nyx an impatient look. “You won’t rest well on the floor, and we all need to be in top shape in the morning. I’ve slept in close conditions with Prompto before.”

“Aren’t you worried that he might _kill you_?”

Ignis barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. “If the spell fails while I’m sleeping, being a little further away isn’t going to save me. I _do_ know what I’m doing.”

He can feel Nyx staring, but he ignores it as he makes himself comfortable behind Prompto. The bed is barely big enough to be shared with a tonberry, but at least he doesn’t have to keep the daemon tucked in against his chest like he’d had to on the ship. Besides, it’s just Prompto. Why should touching him bother Ignis?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> crowe: *half-heartedly attempts to flirt with ignis to get information*  
> ignis: is too gay to even notice


	9. Chapter 9

Prompto wakes up in bed naked, which isn’t out of the ordinary for this trip. What _is_ weird is that when he half-heartedly swats Ignis’ hand away, Ignis doesn’t leave the room. The bed shifts under Prompto like someone else is moving on it.

“Time to get up,” Ignis says, his voice _way_ too close. Like he’s in bed with Prompto. While Prompto is _naked_. “That climb is going to be terrible no matter how long you sleep.”

The bed shifts again when Ignis stands up. Prompto can’t stop himself from looking up even though his face is flushed. He rubs his face to hide it, pretending it’s just a sleepy gesture, even though Ignis doesn’t even glance back in his direction. His heart beats heavily in chest. Ignis’ hair is mussed out of its usual flawless style, and his pants are slung low on his hips. Prompto could pretend that Ignis had actually been sleeping _with_ him, not just next to him because there was nowhere else to. Except that’s kind of creepy, isn’t it?

Prompto moans to himself and rolls over to bury his face back in the pillow. Liking people is the _worst_. Why can’t he just turn his feelings off?

A soft snickering from the other bed makes him bolt upright in horror. How had he forgotten that Nyx was there too? Prompto’s fingers close around the pillow without any direct input from his brain, and he pelts Nyx in his _stupid face_.

“Shut up.” He tries to whisper and yell it at the same time, and the words come out in a horrible, undignified squeak. Nyx just laughs harder. “It’s not funny, damnit!”

“You’re right. Your crush is _adorable_.” Nyx puts the pillow in his lap and uses it as a table so he can prop his chin up on his hand. “The two of you are oblivious.”

“What are you talking about?” Prompto shakes his head and tugs the blankets more securely up his lap. “No, don’t tell me. Just—just _go away_. I want to get dressed in private.”

Nyx laughs again as he gets out of bed and stretches. Prompto scowls at him until he’s finally _gone_ , and only then does he let his face fall into his hands so he can whine at himself in peace. Nobody else was supposed to find out about this _thing_ he has for Ignis. It’s not like anything is ever going to come of it anyway.

Prompto wipes sweat off his face for the thousandth time and tries not to sigh too loudly. Why couldn’t Glauca have chosen somewhere nicer to run away to? Like, he kind of gets the attraction of the desolate, unwelcoming landscape and all that, but it’s just _so damn hot_.

“This is the _worst_ place.” Prompto winces at the whine in his own voice, but he doesn’t think he could stop himself if he tried. “Look at that! Is that actual lava? We’re going to die here, aren’t we?”

“We’re not going to die, Prompto.” Ignis keeps leading them up the mountain without so much as glancing back. “At least, it won’t be the volcano that kills us.”

“Wait, what?” Prompto turns to Nyx when Ignis doesn’t respond. “What did he mean?”

“You’ve known him longer than I have.” Nyx gives Prompto’s shoulder a friendly shove, and Prompto reluctantly starts climbing again. “But I’m pretty sure that was a threat.”

“What? Hey!” Prompto’s feet slide on the silt as he scrambles after Ignis. “You don’t mean that, do you? You _wouldn’t_.”

“I’m debating the merits of it.” Ignis’ voice sounds as serious as ever, but Prompto can see a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “If nothing else, this trip would become a lot quieter.”

Prompto huffs. Fine. If Ignis wants quiet, then he’ll be quiet. He’s totally capable of that. He opens his mouth to tell Ignis that he’s just not going to talk at all any more, and then bites his tongue when it occurs to him that _saying_ that kind of defeats the purpose.

Okay, so it’s harder to be silent than he thought. Doesn’t mean he can’t do it though.

It becomes easier the further up the mountain they go, as the climb gets steeper and more slippery. Prompto doesn’t have the breath to complain, even when his feet slip out from beneath him. Nyx manages to get a hold of him before he falls too far, but it knocks _him_ off balance too, and they skid backwards until they hit a sturdier outcropping.

“I’m going to be too _tired_ to fight by the time we get there,” Prompto grumbles into Nyx’s shoulder. The ledge isn’t even big enough for him to back away. “If we ever make it.”

“We’ll make it.” Nyx’ confidence _should_ make Prompto feel better, but it’s actually kind of annoying. He just wants to whine, damnit. “Luna is waiting.”

Prompto sighs, but Nyx is right. It doesn’t matter how rough the climb is, or how many times he falls attempting it. He’s not going to stop until he gets to her, and he doesn’t think Nyx is either.

“Are the two of you alright?” Ignis slides down to the ledge, coming to a controlled stop just above them. Jerk.

“Yeah, think we just needed a breather.” Nyx smacks Prompto on the back hard enough to earn himself a disapproving frown from Ignis.

“Well, there ought to be a haven at the top.” Ignis shields his eyes and squints up at the sky. “I think we’ll be able to rest there for the night before we push onwards to find out where they’re hiding.”

“Oh, goody.” Prompto’s shoulders droop. “I was starting to miss pulling beetles out of my hair in the morning.”

Ignis rolls his eyes, but he _also_ holds out a hand to help Prompto restart his climb, so Prompto kind of instantly forgives him. He probably shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself. It seems so weird that someone like Ignis would want anything to do with him, but Ignis seems determined to prove that he _does_. And Prompto’s heart flutters every time.

The three of them help each other up the rest of way, making sure nobody else slips on the increasingly fine rock beneath their feet. It’s still a hard climb, leaving them exhausted and soaked with sweat despite their best efforts. Prompto leans against a sturdy wall of black stone and gasps air back into his lungs, wiping half-heartedly at a line of sweat sliding down the side of his face.

“Are we almost there?” he asks. “Or did we die and we’re just doomed to climb this volcano forever as some sort of punishment for everything wrong we’ve ever done in our lives?”

“I’m going with the punishment theory.” Nyx shakes his canteen and sighs, putting it away without trying to drink from it. “At least then we can’t die _again_.”

“The ground has evened out.” Ignis gestures along what appears to be a narrow trail. “The haven must be at the end of this. If the two of you think you can rejoin the living, perhaps we might even find out.”

“ _Cruel_.” Prompto pushes himself away from the wall and drags his feet as he walks past Ignis. “You should treat the dead with more respect.”

“Perhaps if they deserved it.”

The trail isn’t very long, but it’s thin and winding and plagued by monsters because _why wouldn’t it be_. Prompto is mostly grateful for his bow, since it means he doesn’t have to get too close to their sharp claws, but Ignis and Nyx aren’t so lucky. He winces every time a roc gets too close to one of them, just _waiting_ for somebody to get torn open in front of him. But Ignis is too fast for anything to land a hit, and Nyx can _warp_ out of the way when he needs to.

Prompto isn’t even a little bit jealous at all, he swears. Warping isn’t that cool.

The biggest problem is the wyverns with scales Prompto’s arrows can’t penetrate. He has to focus too hard on the timing to hit their more vulnerable underbellies, which leaves _him_ open to attack. Ignis doesn’t leave his side, lance and magic held at the ready so when a wyvern manages to get too close he can take it down before the risk of Prompto getting hurt is too great.

Prompto finds he likes having Ignis fighting next to him, even more than he likes fighting with Aranea. It’s not because of his _crush_ , either. He just likes that Ignis stays on the ground with him.

With the wyverns finally out of the way, Prompto can feel the haven just over one last ledge. He closes his eyes and basks in the peaceful feeling of _Luna_ emanating out with the magic. Her presence is stronger here than in any of the places they’ve been so far, and he can feel muscles untensing that he didn’t even realize _were_ tensed.

“She’s just ahead, isn’t she?”

Nyx’s voice is quiet, but it makes Prompto jump anyway. The peaceful feeling disappears and his shoulders ache with how quickly he tenses up again, but at least now he knows for certain that they’ve found her. It won’t be long before he can take her home again.

“Let’s not stand around here, then.” Ignis’ fingers touch Prompto’s for a fleeting moment, and his soft smile is _almost_ as pleased as Prompto’s is. “Shall we?”

Prompto leads them this time, since the ground is relatively flat and even _he_ can’t do much worse than trip over himself. The blue light of the haven shoots into the sky, bright even in the competing light of the sun. It’s one of the most welcoming things Prompto has ever seen in his _life_.

“Never thought camping would sound so good.” Prompto rolls out his shoulders, looking forward to the next morning. It won’t be too long until sunset, and then when he’s woken up again it’ll be to go find _Luna_. It’s going to be the best day ever, bugs and all.

He’s just about to ask Ignis what he’s going to make for dinner when a shadow blots out the sunlight above them. He’d assume it’s just another wyvern flying around in search of an easy meal, but Nyx’s loud curse makes him look up—just in time to see a man in full armor falling through the sky _straight_ down toward him.

Prompto feels a hand tangle in the back of his shirt as he starts to scramble backwards, and he stumbles over Ignis’ feet as he’s pushed behind him. Ignis’ lance appears in a flash of  light and Nyx blinks into existence at his side, kukris held at the ready.

“An interesting trio of hunters,” General Glauca says from behind his helmet. Prompto wonders what he looks like beneath it. “I never expected to see you all the way out here, Your Highness.”

Prompto squares his shoulders, even though what he really wants to do is run all the way back down the mountain. “We weren’t going to let you keep her forever.” He’s proud of himself for keeping his voice even.

“And _you_ intended to fight me?” Glauca’s obvious scorn really should be insulting, but it makes Prompto laugh. Of course he didn’t think he could take the general on himself. If he did, Luna wouldn’t have been taken away in the first place. “Then prepare yourself!”

Glauca raises his sword and leaps forward. Prompto raises his bow and fires at him without really thinking about it, but it bounces harmlessly off the armor. Ignis steps directly in Glauca’s path and sets his feet, but Glauca’s momentum pushes him backwards several inches before a faint golden light starts to glow around him.

“Prompto, move!” Ignis snaps, his voice straining with the effort of holding Glauca in place.

Prompto doesn’t need to be told twice. There’s no room for him in a close battle, not when he has nothing more useful at hand than an old wooden bow and his own questionable wits. He throws himself to the edge of the haven, but he doesn’t dare leave the other two behind. He can’t fight the monsters by himself, and he can’t just _abandon_ them.

He nocks another arrow to his bow and paces around them, as close to the fight as he dares with Glauca’s impossible jumps and Nyx’s unpredictable warps. Every time he thinks he sees an opening so he can do something more useful than worry, Glauca moves at the last second. Like he can feel Prompto’s eyes on him, even with two _terrifying_ opponents hounding his every move.

Prompto squints into the dimming light and lowers his bow. Glauca ought to be struggling with both Ignis and Nyx focused on him, but it doesn’t seem like he is. His armor is starting to get battered, but he seems to be in the best condition of the three of them. Nyx has to take a moment to rest, breathing heavily as he wipes blood or sweat from his forehead—it’s too dark to tell which—

Prompto’s heart leaps into his throat and he drops his bow. _Twilight_. Ignis is too busy fighting to put him to sleep, and he doesn’t dare hope that he’ll know Ignis and Nyx are friends when he’s a daemon.

He waves his arms wildly until Nyx looks over, and then he gestures emphatically to the sky. It takes a terrifying second for understanding to dawn on Nyx's face, but once it does Prompto turns and runs down the pathway. By the time he realizes that it’s the one that will take him closer to _Luna_ , the sun has gone down too far to turn around.

And Glauca has decided to follow him anyway.

Prompto tries to slide to a stop and backpedal at the same time when Glauca lands in front of him, with the result that he lands ungracefully on his butt. He winces and scrambles back to his feet, not daring to look back and see if Nyx and Ignis are on their way.

“A coward to the end, Your Highness.” Glauca stands with his sword’s point toward the ground, looking as impenetrable and shadowy as the wall of the mountain beside them. Prompto is kind of glad for that; maybe the tonberry won’t get past him. “I don’t know why anybody expected anything else of a bastard.”

Prompto can see Glauca continuing to talk, but he doesn’t attempt to listen to the rest of it. The magic tingles in his fingertips and he clenches his hands into fists. He wants to fight the transformation more than he ever has before. He hates knowing how easy it is for him to kill people, hates knowing that he’s done it before, but the idea that he could kill _Luna_ is so much worse. He’d rather die than do it. He _would_ die if it actually happened.

But he knows there’s no way to remain human for any part of the night. He watches Glauca raise his sword with the last of the dying light, and gives himself over to the darkness.

Whatever happens, this’ll be the last time. He’ll make sure of it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY

The pain is _blinding_. Ignis clutches at his side as Nyx drags him along the path, trying to gauge how much time they have left until the sun is completely set. He prays they won’t be too late, swears he will do _anything_ if it means they can keep the tonberry away from the queen.

“Everything has gone to _shit_ ,” Nyx mutters to himself, hefting Ignis higher up on his shoulder. “If he kills Luna…”

Ignis grits his teeth and tries to tighten his arm around Nyx’s shoulder, but he can barely move. He can still _talk_ , though. “You won’t lay a finger on the prince.”

“What’re you going to do, bleed on me?” Nyx snorts.

Ignis is fairly certain he’s already doing that. He’s probably bleeding on _everything_ , leaving a delightful trail for wyverns and daemons to follow until they find the meal at the end of it.

Little he can do about that now. Nyx jolts to a stop with a loud curse, and when the pain subsides enough for Ignis’ vision to clear again he can immediately see what the problem is. Glauca is standing against a transformed Prompto, and by the light of the master tonberry’s glowing knife it’s easy to see that he’s losing badly. The heavy armor that had fared so well against Ignis’ blessed lance has been shattered, and he doesn’t seem able to keep up with the tiny daemon’s acrobatic assault.

Glauca seems to see his death coming a moment before it happens. He lowers his sword’s point to the ground and stands as still as a statue, his eyes boring straight into Ignis’ as the tonberry’s light-extended knife slices clean _through_ the hilt—and Glauca’s throat.

The tonberry lands without a noise and slowly turns lamp-yellow eyes on Ignis and Nyx. It tilts its head and stares at them for a long second like it’s thinking about its next move. Ignis _almost_ hopes that it recognizes them as friends, that Prompto’s mind is somehow partially aware behind all the magic and will keep the daemon from killing them.

But of course they’re not that lucky. The tonberry leaps into the air toward them and Nyx’s grip on Ignis’ waist tightens as they both flinch. There’s a dagger in Ignis’ hand without him intending to call on Bahamut’s assistance; Nyx moves so his body is between Ignis and the approaching daemon—a futile attempt at protection—

“ _Stop!_ ” The voice that bursts through the air is nothing like Ignis’, bright with a power that burns rather than echoes, and undeniably feminine. It makes the daemon halt in midair, knife uncomfortably close to Nyx’s kukris, and the magic crackles and drops out of the air like dying sparks.

“Luna,” Nyx says breathlessly.

Queen Lunafreya Nox Fleuret of Tenebrae materializes out of the dark night, her white dress faded and torn with the months she’s been missing from her country. She barely looks down at Glauca’s body, though she carefully steps over an outstretched arm.

“You came.” She reaches a glowing hand up to Nyx’s face and wipes away a small cut. Nyx shifts on his feet, his grip loosening and tightening sporadically. The two of them stare at each other for long enough that Ignis clears his throat in the awkward silence.

“Not to interrupt the reunion,” he says in his driest voice, “but perhaps we should get somewhere safe before the daemons decide to overtake us.”

Nyx and Lunafreya jump at the sound of his voice, and Nyx looks up at the sky as if it will hide the blush that Ignis is too close not to see. Lunafreya turns to Ignis with an apologetic smile, and her eyes widen as she finally takes in his appearance.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Ignis assures her, and Nyx scoffs. Lunafreya doesn’t look like she believes him either, giving him a stern frown and lifting both hands to his side. Well, he’d been lying through his teeth; he supposes he can’t blame her for not believing him. Glauca had gotten a good hit in when he’d noticed Prompto run off, and Ignis has already lost a lot of blood. He can feel himself growing weaker every moment he remains standing, and without interference he’s not certain how long he’ll remain conscious.

He might have preferred a _different_ healer be available to assist him, though. Ifrit’s magic burns as it knits his skin back together, hurting worse than any hit he took from Glauca. Lunafreya’s kind voice tries to soothe him over the sound of fire filling his head, but he can’t hear what she’s saying. The world narrows to nothing but pain and burning and a brief flash of the humanoid god _grinning_ down at him—

When he comes back to himself, he’s hunched over Lunafreya with his hands clenched around her shoulders so tight he’s afraid he might break her. He forces himself to let go and stumbles away, muttering an apology as he reaches for the healed wound. He expects to find blistered and still-burnt skin, but there’s nothing but a jagged scar to mark where Glauca’s sword cut him open.

“My apologies.” Lunafreya looks concerned, and there’s no sign on her face of the pain she must be feeling from Ignis’ fingers digging into her skin. “The magic is not normally so painful. Are you all right?”

“The pain has already subsided.” Ignis brushes past her and frowns up at the tonberry frozen in midair. He doesn’t have much experience with stop magic, so he’s not certain how aware Prompto is of what’s going on around him.

“Oh, the daemon. I should—”

“ _Don’t_.” Ignis throws out an arm and Lunafreya flinches, fire falling from her hand and fizzling out on the ground. He feels a spark of anger toward Glauca at her jumpiness. He may not have been familiar with the queen before this moment, but she would have had such reactions trained out of her before. “My apologies, Your Majesty. This isn’t a daemon. Your brother was cursed after you were taken from the country. When the sun sets…”

He gestures demonstratively to Prompto and sighs. He doubts Prompto had wanted his sister to see him in this form.

“I see.” Lunafreya holds her hand to her chest and closes her eyes, grief crossing her face for a moment before she sets her jaw. “I will not be able to do anything for him while he’s already under one of my spells. If you would, cleric…”

“Ignis Scientia. Prince Noctis sent me to help your brother.” Ignis bows to the queen before he puts Prompto to sleep. Despite the lingering weakness, he catches Prompto when Lunafreya removes her stop spell. Nyx offers to carry him, but Ignis feels irrationally responsible for Prompto and insists on doing it himself.

“Could we rest at the haven tonight?” Lunafreya folds her hands in front of herself and gives Ignis a thin, nervous smile. “I would rather not return to the tomb again.”

Ignis shares a dark look with Nyx and gives Lunafreya a tight nod. He almost wishes Glauca weren’t already dead; the man ought to be punished for all the crimes he’s committed against a queen he claimed to be loyal to for so many years.

Lunafreya insists Ignis sit down and rest when they get back to the haven, so Nyx finds their belongings and sets up the tent while she puts together some sort of meal. Ignis sits in the center with Prompto at his side, not really paying attention to either of them. He lets his thoughts drift on the eddies of light floating away into the sky, wondering how much he’s actually managed to accomplish on this trip. Lunafreya hasn’t even looked at her brother since she found out what happened.

Once their silent meal is concluded, Lunafreya kneels at Prompto’s side. Nyx hovers behind her as she frowns in concentration, her hands glowing again as she rests them gently on either side of Prompto’s head. Ignis leans forward hopefully, waiting for Prompto’s gentle features to fade into view out of the tonberry’s dark skin.

The minutes tick by without any change. Lunafreya’s expression grows stormier and more determined, her skin slowly loses its already-faint color, and she reluctantly sways backwards into Nyx’s waiting hands.

“I cannot heal him.” She bows her head and wipes her face. “Ardyn’s magic has always been more powerful than mine, and I can’t…”

Ignis pinches the bridge of his nose as his shoulders droop. The sigh he can’t hold back is heavier than he intends. He should’ve known better than to hope for such an easy solution, but Lunafreya is the _oracle_. He’d assumed that if anyone was going to break the curse, it was going to be her.

“Ifrit demands a sacrifice that I’m in no position to give.” Lunafreya’s voice is quiet and pensive, and Ignis lowers his hand so he can see her clearly. She avoids both his and Nyx’s eyes, but he can still see the bitterness behind the tears filling her eyes. “He has always been somewhat fickle. There’s no telling how much he’ll take. And I love Ravus, but he was never intended to be king.”

So there _is_ a way to get rid of it, even if Lunafreya can’t put her brother ahead of her kingdom. But Ignis can’t think of anyone who deserves this curse less than Prompto does. No matter what hardships life has thrown at him, the prince has remained kind-hearted and cheerful. He’s a bright ray of sunshine even when he has every reason to be otherwise, and to see him turned into such a creature of darkness night after night…

“Use me.” Ignis’ own voice catches him by surprise, but he just straightens his shoulders when Lunafreya looks up at him with disbelief. “I understand your responsibilities prevent you from risking anything that might harm your ability to accomplish them. But I’m just a simple cleric, Your Majesty. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t do everything I can to help him.”

“I can’t.” Lunafreya takes Ignis’ hands, shaking her head. “Ignis, I don’t think you understand. Ifrit is not a merciful god. He may not take your life, but I can guarantee you that you won’t be prepared for whatever he _does_ take.”

“You would rather your brother live like this for the rest of his life?” Ignis wrenches his hands free of Lunafreya’s and gets to his feet. The sudden change in position makes him dizzy, but he ignores it so he can stare the queen down. “I would think you’d know your brother than anyone else, Majesty. How much longer do you think he’ll be able to handle this? Glauca isn’t the first man he’s killed.”

Lunafreya looks away first. “Kneel beside me.”

She holds out a hand to him, palm up in invitation. Ignis still looks at her with faint suspicion, half expecting her to make another attempt at dissuading him, but he lowers himself to the ground anyway. Lunafreya gives one of his hands a brief squeeze, then releases it to rest her fingertips gently against his forehead.

“You are certain you’re ready to give up whatever Ifrit demands of you?” Her voice is more commanding now, almost ceremonial in its rhythmic intonation. “No matter how great or small a sacrifice he desires?”

Ignis takes a final moment to really think about it. He, too, has responsibilities that he can’t shirk, a duty to a throne that he has sworn his life to since he was a child. But Prompto’s early morning smile floats into the front of his mind, lazy and content, and he _knows_ that this was what Prince Noctis had sent him to Tenebrae to protect. He’ll give _anything_ if it means Prompto will have the life he deserves.

“ **Then give it to me** ,” Lunafreya says, but it isn’t _just_ Lunafreya. Another voice crackles behind hers, leering and terrible. Ignis wants to run at the sound of it. His body refuses to move, not even flinching away from the shadowy hand that reaches out to his face.

It isn’t until the burning begins that he reacts, fighting against the fingers digging into his temple. Blood runs down his cheeks as Ifrit lifts him into the air, and he’s certain the god is telling him _something_. If only he could hear it over the fire blistering his skin and the screams tearing his own throat raw.

The last thing he sees is Lunafreya’s pale face, tears streaming down her cheeks as she mouths what seems to be an apology. But she has nothing to be sorry for. Ignis went into this willingly, and he’d do it again even knowing the outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's all gone to shit, [kupo](https://yodepalma.tumblr.com/post/167674679455)!


	11. Chapter 11

Prompto wakes to the sunlight shining _straight_ in his eyes, like the tent isn’t even there to filter any of it out. He groans and rolls over, flailing vaguely over his shoulder in search of the bedroll, but he can’t find it. Fine. He’ll just suffer then. Why not?

“Good morning, Prompto,” Luna says, gently carding her fingers through his hair. “How do you feel?”

“M’good.” Prompto sighs and tries to figure out why the morning feels so _wrong_. Luna is there, which is always nice—she’s _way_ nicer about waking him up than Ravus or Aranea are—and he feels like he slept well. Better than usual, actually. “Why’s it so bright?”

Luna’s fingers stop moving, and they don’t start again even after Prompto makes a little whiny noise of complaint. Why is she being so _weird_? Nothing has gone right since Glauca—

_Glauca_. The memory of the fight feels like ice in Prompto’s soul, and he bolts upright so fast his head spins. Familiar hands catch and steady him, and a familiar voice murmurs for him to be careful, he doesn’t want to hurt himself so soon…

“ _Luna_?” Prompto grabs Luna’s arms, giving them a gentle squeeze to make sure she’s really _real_. “Are you okay? Did the general hurt you? Did Nyx and Ignis—did I—”

Luna smiles at him, fond and exasperated and so familiar Prompto wants to cry. “You didn’t hurt them. But perhaps the rest of this conversation could wait until you’re better attired?”

Prompto looks down and flushes at the tattered remains of clothing that are all that’s keeping his modesty in place. Right. He grabs some clothes out of his conveniently close pack and puts them on while Luna sets up the fire. He wonders where Ignis is. It looks way past the time they’d normally get up to travel for the day. Why isn’t _he_ making breakfast?

Luna had only said that _Prompto_ hadn’t hurt anybody. What if Glauca had? What if Nyx and Ignis are both _dead_? Maybe if Prompto had ever managed to learn to fight with something other than a stupid, useless _bow_ ….

“Prompto, come sit with me.” Luna’s voice isn’t quite a command, but Prompto does what she says anyway. She pours them each a cup of tea, then stares down at her own hands with a slight frown. “You never told me how you felt. And please _think_ about it before you respond.”

Prompto wrinkles his nose as he considers the answer. Just what is Luna expecting him to say? That he slept well is a given, considering the strength of the spell Ignis places him under every night. He’s a little sore from sleeping on the hard ground, though. And he feels…lighter, kind of. Like some sort of weight was lifted off his chest. Or his soul.

He puts his cup down before he can drop it. “Did you do it?” He can hear his voice shaking. “Did you really get rid of the curse?”

Luna’s wobbly smile makes his own excited grin slide off his face.

“You’re healed, Prompto.” Her _voice_ is wobbly too, like she might cry at any moment. But her hands are steady and she doesn’t drop her gaze from Prompto’s. “But the cure took more than I think any of us were prepared for. Ignis is alive, but…”

Prompto feels like the world is falling out from under him. Nobody was supposed to get hurt helping him, especially not so badly that Luna was so upset over having caused it. _Especially_ not Ignis, who is so much better of a person than Prompto can ever hope to be.

“What happened?” His voice sounds hollow to his own ears.

Luna hesitates for the longest thirty seconds of Prompto’s entire life. “I tried to heal him.” Her voice is barely a whisper. She curls in on herself, like she’s expecting to be attacked. Which is…more than Prompto can handle right now. “I _tried_. But, Prompto, he’s never going to see again.”

When Prompto steps into the tent, Nyx is helping Ignis sit up in his bed roll. Prompto stops short and can’t keep himself from staring at the scars across Ignis’ eyes. His legs feel _weak_. He stumbles over and collapses next to Ignis, wincing when Ignis flinches at his sudden approach.

“It’s just Prompto,” Nyx says in a careful tone that might be worse than Ignis’ actual injury.

“I had assumed as much.” Ignis lifts a hand to resettle glasses that aren’t on his face and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose instead. “I think he may want to speak with me alone, Nyx. If you wouldn’t mind.”

Prompto isn’t entirely sure about the _alone_ part, but they definitely need to talk. He wrings his hands together and stares at them as Nyx gets up. It takes him _forever_ to leave, like he’s reluctant to leave the two of them alone together. Maybe he’s worried that Prompto is going to yell at Ignis or something.

But Prompto isn’t any _good_ at being mad, especially not to someone who’s hurt. The silence between him and Ignis stretches thin and his breath catches in his chest. He wants to know why Ignis would sacrifice so much for him, but he doesn’t know how to ask without sounding ungrateful.

“I suppose I’ll start then.” Ignis’ voice is as strong as ever, and when Prompto looks up Ignis’ eyes are _almost_ focused in his direction. “I want you to know that I don’t regret the sacrifice I made. Your sister wouldn’t have been able to do it, and somebody had to—”

“No they didn’t!” Prompto bites his lip, mad at himself for interrupting. But Ignis just raises his eyebrows and doesn’t seem annoyed at all. “We would’ve found another way to break the curse, there _has_ to be another way. Not that I’m not grateful, because I am. I’m really glad not to—but you shouldn’t have gotten hurt. I’m not…”

Prompto swallows the words back and drops his gaze to the ground. He can’t say it out loud, even though it’s _true_. He doesn’t think he’s admitted it to Ignis before, not really, and he doesn’t need to say it now of all times. It’s not like it _matters_.

“Of course you’re worth it.” Ignis reaches one hand out toward Prompto, patting at the air until he finds Prompto’s hands. Prompto watches blankly as Ignis’ long fingers curl around his own and force him to stop trying to twist his own fingers off. “Nobody deserves what you were going through, Prompto. My sight is a small price to pay in comparison to your life.”

Prompto blinks back the tears that are threatening to fall. He wants to say that it’s _not_ a small price, that any amount of pain was too much to pay for Prompto’s sake, but the words get lost somewhere on their way out of his mouth. He closes his mouth and squeezes Ignis’ fingers, hoping that somehow that simple action is enough to convey what he can’t speak.

Ignis sighs and turns toward him, moving closer. “Prompto, please look at me.”

“How do you know I’m _not_?” Prompto asks sullenly, but he looks up anyway. Ignis is smiling a bit fondly, leaning forward a little like he’s getting ready to tell Prompto a secret.

“I think I have learned a few things about you.” Ignis pulls one of his hands free and lifts it to Prompto’s face. “May I?”

“Oh, uh, y-yeah.”

Prompto pretends he isn’t blushing as Ignis’ fingers brush across the contours of his face, but he can’t do anything about the way his heartbeat speeds up and his breath quickens. Ignis’ thumb brushes against Prompto’s lips and he seems to _sway_ closer, intense and focused and definitely not in any way about to kiss Prompto. There’s _no way_. Is there?

Ignis licks his lips and drops his hand with agonizing slowness. “My apologies, Your Highness.” He pulls away and smooths out the wrinkles in his robe with short, jerky movements. He’s _nervous_. He was _totally_ about to kiss Prompto. “That was completely inappropriate of me.”

Prompto clenches his hands around his knees, digging his nails into his skin to ground himself. He’s probably reading too much into it. Ignis can do better than him, and there’s no way he doesn’t know it. Prompto may be a prince, but that’s the only worthwhile thing about him. There’s no _reason_ for Ignis to want him.

He should just let it go, but he knows it’ll haunt him forever if he does. He shuffles forward and puts a hand on Ignis’ arm.

“W-well, it’s not inappropriate for _me_ , i-is it?”  Prompto grins even though Ignis can’t see it. It makes him feel more confident as he leans in, not that that’s saying much. It’s not like he’s had much practice with kissing. Especially since the curse.

If Ignis minds, he doesn’t show any sign of it. He patiently kisses back, taking control like it’s the natural thing to do. Prompto’s more than happy to let him, feels more comfortable with Ignis gently directing him. It's not like Prompto knows what he's doing, after all.

Prompto pulls away, because he knows they can’t keep kissing forever. No matter how much he wants to.

“We should go get breakfast,” he says reluctantly. “Luna’s probably worrying about both of us right now.”

“Yes, probably.” Ignis runs his fingertips down the side of Prompto’s face and sighs. “And we’ll need to talk about this. We have to leave soon.”

Right, leaving. That means Prompto has to go home, and Ignis will go back to Insomnia, and this thing between them….

“I should at least see you back to your ship in Galdin Quay.” Ignis stands up and makes his way toward the tent’s entrance, his hands stretched out. “And then I’ll see about getting myself home.”

Prompto’s heart sinks as he scrambles up to help Ignis out of the tent. How _is_ Ignis supposed to get home like this?

By the time they get back to Galdin Quay, it’s obvious that Ignis won’t be able to make it home alone. The trip across the country isn’t nearly enough time for him to even _start_ getting used to his new limitations, no matter how much he tries to pretend he doesn’t need any help. Prompto is pretty sure he isn’t helping with his constant hovering, but he can’t bring himself to leave Ignis alone even though he keeps getting _scowled_ at. He just can’t stop _worrying_. What if Ignis gets hurt again? It’s Prompto’s fault that’s even a possibility. He should be able to _prevent_ that.

At least Ignis doesn’t seem to be regretting letting Prompto kiss him, no matter how annoyed he gets. When he trips over the steps leading up to the boardwalk to Galdin Quay’s restaurant, he even reaches out to Prompto on his own. His fingertips brush against Prompto’s elbow, fluttery and hesitant for half a second before he slides them down his arm to tangle their fingers together.

“I’m sorry my company has been terrible while we traveled.” Ignis leans in close, his breath tickling the tip of Prompto’s ear. It must look ridiculously intimate, like they’re all gooey-happy-in-love. Like Nyx and Luna are. “Adjusting to my blindness has been more frustrating than I anticipated.”

“It’s fine.” Prompto squeezes Ignis’ hand and smiles at him. Even though he can’t see it. “I just wish—”

“You made it!” Dino walks up to them with his arms spread in greeting, but his smirk drops when he catches sight of Ignis’ new scars. “Blessed Leviathan. Just how close to dying did you come?”

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Ignis says in a very _reasonable_ tone. Prompto squeezes his hand again, but this time he waits until Ignis winces in pain to stop.

Nyx snorts and crosses his arms. “Yeah, because getting your eyes burnt out of your face isn’t a big deal or anything.”

“Nyx, please.” Luna puts a hand on Nyx’s arm and he subsides with a half-hearted grumble. “I assure you Ignis was not in any danger of dying, though we appreciate your concern. Would you happen to know if the boat to Altissia is in dock at the moment?”

Dino flicks his fingers against the front of his shirt like he’s wiping away some invisible dust, forcing a painful-looking smile onto his face. “It’s ready and waiting,” he says, a mischievous sparkle in his eye as he looks over to Luna, “Your Majesty.”

Nyx and Ignis tense at the title, both of them looking like they expect an assassin to appear out of nowhere.

“We should see if we can get rooms on the ship before it’s too late.” Luna pats Nyx on the arm and walks away. “Are you coming?”

“I suppose it was too much to hope for that Lunafreya would remain unrecognized as long as you did.” Ignis sighs and follows after her, not letting go of Prompto’s hand. Prompt’s heart does an excited little dance, which only gets worse when Dino gives their hands a pointed look. “Hopefully you won’t have any issues on the return trip. I do wish I could escort you home as well…”

“Yeah, me too.” Prompto feels himself blush. “I m-mean, Nyx can handle anything that goes wrong! I just want to spend more time with you.”

“I would have preferred that as well.” Ignis’ voice is quiet, and he turns his face away from Prompto like he’s staring off into the distance. He’s facing directly at the ship, which looms with finality behind Nyx and Luna as they catch up.

Prompto chews on his bottom lip, dropping his gaze the second it catches Luna’s. “Um. What if I didn’t go home?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ignis’ response is so quick it makes Prompto flinch, and he releases his grip on Ignis hand. But Ignis doesn’t let go of _his_. “Prompto, you can’t tell me you don’t want to go home with your sister. I know how badly you missed her.”

“But now I know she’s safe.” Prompto tastes blood and wrinkles his nose in disgust. Of course he bites through his lip _now_. “You still have to get home. How’re you going to do that alone?”

Ignis clearly doesn’t have a plan, because his only response is to scowl at Prompto like he’s being a jerk. Which he’s _not_.

Luna delicately clears her throat in the heavy silence. “Perhaps you should escort him, Your Highness.” Her smile is peaceful and serene even though Ignis’ scowl is _terrifying_. “I believe his sacrifice to break your curse went well beyond what his duty required of him. The least you could do is ensure he returns home safely.”

Prompto fights back a grin. Trust Luna to give him the perfect excuse to stay in Lucis, even though he’s sure she wants him to go home with her.

“That’s not necessary.” Ignis flexes his fingers against Prompto’s. “The land between Lucis and the Quay is familiar terrain. I shouldn’t have much difficulty traversing it—”

“I insist, Ignis.” Luna folds her hands in front of herself and her smile turns smug. “Consider it a gift, and have _fun_.”

Ignis tugs his hand free and bows low. “My thanks, Your Majesty.”

Luna hides a smile behind her hand and steps up to Prompto, wrapping him in a warm hug. Prompto leans into her and sighs. He’s going to miss her, but at least he knows he’ll get to see her again. If he goes home, who knows how long it would be before he heard from Ignis?

“Thank Noctis for sending Ignis out to assist us.” Luna kisses Prompto’s cheek and grins up at him. “And when you do make it home, promise me you’ll be happy.”

“I’ll try?” Prompto rubs his cheek and smiles awkwardly back.

Luna gestures to Nyx and the two of them walk away to board the ship. Prompto watches until he’s sure they’re not going to be kicked back off again, and only then does he turn to Ignis.

“So, um.” He rubs his palms against his thighs and tries for a smile, hoping it makes him feel more confident. “I guess we should get a room again.”

“And leave in the morning.” Ignis touches Prompto’s cheek, frowning faintly. “Has the sun set yet?”

“Almost?” Prompto gives the horizon an uncertain look, pretending the sight of the sun sinking into the water doesn’t still make him nervous. “We have a few minutes if you want to get inside before it does.”

“No, I’m fine.” Ignis cups Prompto’s face and pulls him in close. “You still notice the exact moment it disappears, don’t you?”

Prompto has no idea why Ignis points that out, but he doesn’t get an explanation before Ignis leans in and kisses him. He’s too tense to enjoy it, his mind still trying to calculate just how much time he has left until the sun is gone. Ignis patiently runs his hands down Prompto’s back, pulls him in close and slides his tongue across Prompto’s lips.

It’s impossible to think about anything _but_ Ignis, the feel of his muscles under Prompto’s hands and the thoroughness with which he explores Prompto’s mouth. It’s a long time before either of them can bear to part, and when they do Prompto opens his eyes to a dark, starry sky.

He hadn’t felt even the ghost of the curse as the sun went down.

“You’re sure this is what you want?” Ignis asks quietly. “It’s not too late to get on that ship.”

Prompto looks at Ignis, really takes in the extensive scars and milky eyes. Feels the gentle surety with which Ignis holds him, and knows he won’t let Prompto fall even though he’s still healing and adjusting to his new world.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Prompto tugs him down for another kiss. “I can always go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END.......or is it???
> 
> (i have vague notes for a sequel but don't hold your breath)


End file.
